


Visitor

by EponineFaye



Category: Chenzel - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, Wicked RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Chapter Story, F/F, Fluff, Light Smut, Lots of Angst, chenzel, fluff here and there mostly, only sometimes.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1474507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EponineFaye/pseuds/EponineFaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chenzel. Kristin's POV... "...just a love-sick groupie..." is how I believe she says she feels... What started out as a backstage romance leads to a life-altering journey for two women who didn't understand the consequences of what they want, and what they hoped for. Struggles. Lots of tears. Love conquers all - even hopes of a future. Now Complete. Reviews make me smile. You are loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Here I am. Again. Waiting on her call like some love-sick groupie.

Is that really all I am? I really do feel like it at moments... Like I just wait until she has free time and then rush to meet her every whim. It's not right; or healthy for that matter. I swear I have some self respect down there somewhere, not that anyone would notice it at any point. I just look like some ditzy blonde barbie for all anyone knows. Well... I guess she sees me more of a ditzy blonde blow-up toy, the way she has me. But there's really nothing I can do. And it kills me! I am nothing more than a glorified booty call; and a secret one at that.

And there it is; the ring tone she will never hear.

_"L... is for the way you look, at me  
O... is for the only-"_

I pick up as soon as my mind can stand to pull itself out of the trans it puts itself into every time I dare to think about her for too long.

"Hello?" I nearly bark, sounding a little too excited I'm sure.

I hear her strangely lovely laugh on the other end. "Well hello there." she says through her giggle. "What are you doing?"

I can't help but supply a little laugh of my own. "I thought you woulda guessed by now! -where I always am when I'm not with you."

"Well it doesn't hurt for me to check, hun." she says. I can hear the smile in her voice. She's calling me hun, too; that can only mean that her husband isn't around.

"I'm at home. With Maddie. Where are you?"

"Just leaving the gym... and wondering if I can come over?" she asks like it's a question.

Even though we both know what I'm going to say I pause anyway, thinking about what would happen if I said no.

Yet I don't chance it. "Yeah - How long 'til you're here?" I ask, trying to hide the anticipation.

"Uhhm... It shouldn't be more than twenty minutes. If that."

I can't hide my sigh, wondering if she'll stay any longer than how long it takes her to get here. "I'll be here." I tell her, somehow managing to sound happy about it. And I am, but it's just one of the many emotions I have when she decides she wants to come over.

"Okie dokie... I'll see you in a minute."

"Bye?" I try to get in before she hangs up.

"Bye." She says all too quickly.

And like always I stare at the phone for a minute. I don't know why she has me like she does, but I get butterflies knowing she's about to be next to me. All I have to do is wait for a few minutes and she'll be here. After that I have no control. At least up until she gets here I can decide what I want to do with my time – how to fix my hair, what to wear – once she’s here all of my attention goes to her. 

One day I'll tell her I'm out doing something instead of sitting at home waiting for her, like I do every weekend. I wonder what it would be like for her to think that we'd only see each other on the week days at rehearsal and whatnot. I wonder what she'd say.

Sometimes I wish I could be in that head of hers, just for a little while. I just want to see how she really thinks at times. Like when she's with me, and then what goes through her mind when she leaves and goes back to her husband again. Or when she sneaks me back to the dressing room just to tickle my sides until I hurt from laughing so much and then tells me to hush. Some of her games make me crazy. She makes me crazy. But what can ya do? When someone has you by the heart strings you can't just brush off what they don't tell you, or what you wish you knew about them, and there is so much I wish she would tell me, and still more that she never will.

Without even realizing it a whole ten minutes passed by, and she's going to be here in another few. And I look like a mess.

I rush into the bathroom and take down my hair, hoping and praying that it won't look like I haven't brushed it in the last ten years, and it cooperates, thank the Lord. I sigh a little, simply relieved. I suppose the pajamas I haven't changed out of this morning aren't too bad, but I don't want her to think that _all_ I do is wait around for her and-

Oh wait... that _is_ what I do. Wow.

Nonetheless I put jeans and a T-shirt on, and rush back into the kitchen. Maddie looks at me confused.

"Oh, come on... You already knew I was insane, girly." I mutter to my dog, not really caring she can't understand me. In my mind she can understand me. In my mind I am also five inches taller.

Sometimes I think I really am insane.

I put the kettle on, and get her mug out along with mine, hoping today is a tea day instead of a coffee day, but I can't ever really tell. I've said it before and I'll say it again; she makes me crazy.

I hear the knock at the door just as the kettle starts to whistle and my mind flips between the two; boiling water - knock at the door - boiling and now annoying water...

I pick the door.

I open the door to see her; as beautiful as ever. Her long brown hair is pulled back into her work-out ponytail, and her face still a little flushed, in her over-sized tank, colorful sports bra, and yoga pants... her and her yoga pants. She is a special kind of wonderful and... and she's holding coffee for the both of us.

"I got-"  
"I was-" we both try and talk at the same time.

"I-"  
"Wha-" ...and again.

She giggles and nods for me to speak first.

A huge smile manages to leak on to my face before I have a chance to talk. "I was just making tea for us."

"I can hear that." She doesn't try to hide her sarcasm.

"Oh!" I squeak, and run in to take it off the burner. Seeing her steals my mind from all other things that should really be on my mind... like scalding hot water in my kitchen for starters.

"What are you laughing at?" I throw the question over my shoulder, acting like I'm offended.

"You." she says simply, closing my door like she owns the place.

"What about me?" I ask without even turning around.

I hear her set the cups on the counter and her sneakers on the hardwood before I feel her arms snake around my waist and pull me close. "You." she whispers close to my ear. "Everything about you... You're just..." she inhales and I feel her chest expand on my back, and my whole body feels like it's tingling. Everything relaxes like I have no control left; like I'm just her little marionette doll and-

"Shit!" I nearly yell. I rush over to the sink and turn the cold water on, sticking my throbbing hand under the stream as quickly as possible.

"What? What happened?" She asks, fidgeting with her hands.

I shake my head. "Nothing... I'm just stupid and wasn't paying attention, and I burned my hand on the kettle."

The water is starting to take some of the sting away, and my hand isn't throbbing anymore. But she's silent for way too long now.

I look back and she's just standing there, with a guilty look all over her face, playing with her fingers and shifting her eyes all over, until they hit mine.

"Are you alright?" She asks, stepping only a little bit closer.

I nod, wondering why she's acting like this. I've never seen her nervous before.

"Can I help you with anything? I-I mean... can I get you anything?"

I don't know what's going on. She's acting like this was her fault I'm hurt, and like I'm hurt far worse than I really am. She looks like a scared little bird, and I don't know this side of her.

"Idina, I'm really-"

"Hold on!" she says before she runs down the hall. Maddie runs after her and I am left standing and wondering what the hell is going on.

She's never acted like this before. Granted, I've never been hurt when she was over before. It's always the same old song and dance, for lack of a better term - she comes over, we fool around, then she leaves with one more piece of me she doesn't even know she took. I wait all weekend for her to call and tell me when she'll be here, then I ready myself and my apartment and whatever else I have time to obsess over so that it looks good for her. I let her take me in any way she chooses, and give her whatever I can, and then she puts her clothes back on and goes back home. She's never acted like she cared for me before. Shown affection? -yes. But this; the worry, or extra emotion hasn't ever show up before.

She comes back in with band aids and disinfecting balm. I can't help but smile a little.

She steps closer to me and turns the water off, taking my "injured" hand in hers. She's gentle in putting the balm on the raw, red part of my palm, keeping her eyes on it the whole time while my eyes stay on her. She looks like she'd genuinely worried... about me. Her concentration is odd, the way her brow is all furrowed in trying to put on the band aids just right without hurting me.

She finally looks up at me, wide eyed and looking a little nervous still. "Is that okay?" she asks softly.

I nod, still staring at her in awe.

She sighs and looks back down at my hand, which is still safely in hers. I feel her fingers run over the band aids at the same time her face gets a sort of pained expression I'm not familiar with. "I'm sorry, Kris." she shakes her head. "I should have been smarter than to come up behind you when I knew you had the kettle in your hand... I really should have known better than that."

"Oh, hun, it's really-"

"No." She cuts me off. It feels as though she almost can't look at me. "I don't know what I was thinking and I'm so sorry."

Her words are too strong for me to rebut. I just keep looking at her big brown eyes still focused on my hand. Something about the way she concentrates on things makes me wonder about her; about just how much space she has to think about anything she wants up there in her own little corner of her consciousness, with her character or her husband... or me sometimes.

I see little tears pooling at her lash line, daring her to blink and let them fall, but she doesn't - not for a few more moments. Then she finally does. The little beads flow gracefully down her face, sweeping over the apple of her cheek, then dipping below in the caverns of where her cheekbones create the foundation for her face.It's like a piece of art - more beautiful than any you could possibly carve from the highest quality of substance.

Her eyes are still closed, the tiny droplets still trying to trickle down, while she lifts my hand to her lips and kisses the wound gently with a half-quivering lip. Immediately my heart is hers all over again. Every fragment of my being is put in her hands and I'm left helpless to watch what she does with me. My will is gone and she takes all of what I am and makes it into whatever she wants. I'm just a member of the audience. She is the conductor, and it's her music we make.

She lets go of my hand and her head drops as her shoulders begin to tremble, then start racking with her sobs.

I can't help myself, rushing towards her and throwing my arms around her. I want to protect her, and love her, and give her anything and everything she thinks she lacks... All I want to do is make her stop crying and make her act like her normal self, because seeing her crying kills me.

"Oh, Dee.. Honey, it's alright. I'm fine, I promise." I say as I rub between her shoulder blades, trying my hardest to soothe her.

"No." she says. She clings to me. I feel her fingers tightening around my blouse and her sobs against my chest.

"'No" what? I really am fi-"

"Don't do that to me." She cuts me off, pulling away from me and looking right at me for the first time since she started crying. "You're not alright and you won't tell me, will you?"

I couldn't help my blank stare.

"Why not?"

"Why not what?"

"Why won't you tell me? Where you ever planning on telling me?"

"TELLING YOU WHAT?"

"THAT YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH ME!"

I loose all of my balance right there and feel my eyes open wide. Tears come from their own accord and I can only hope to hold them in for seconds at a time. I refuse to be this vulnerable, in any circumstance.

But one escapes from my lash line against my best efforts and I still can't look away from the big brown eyes that seem to look through me and right at me at the same time. She takes full advantage of my sensitivity, and she doesn't even know that she's doing it. What a horrible little super power she possesses. I hate that she knows and I hate myself for letting her see so easily.

"No." I nearly whisper before I can slip away from her grip and carry me and my broken little secret away to the confines of my bed room. For the first time I don't care if she follows me or not. The last thing I had to hide had been stripped from me, and she has every power in the world left. All I want is to feel safe again. I had some small amount of safety in the fact she didn't know that I was completely mad over her - that all of my being would die with the loss of her presence, because I could still pretend, to myself and to her that I could be alright if she left. That I'd be some variation of alright. But no. I can't even have the smallest amount of security, not even in a lie that I let myself believe.

I sulk to the soft duvet I washed last night in anticipation of her arrival and curl my legs up so my knees are at my chin.

What’s to come is one of two things; one, I’ll hear my front door open and close and I’ll let myself cry like my world collapsed, as it might, and try my best not to give myself a heart attack wondering whether she’ll ever want to see me again. Two, my bedroom door will open and then she has all the power again. I’ll be left helpless at whatever she sees fit to do with me, be it her colorful array of swear words in my general direction or making me feel like I’m flying by just looking at me like she knows everything I’m thinking and everything I have to say that I won’t ever let leave my lips. And maybe she does.

For a minute, I want her to leave. I don't want to face the kind of embarrassment and gravity of the situation I created for myself. I don't want to let her have anything more. I don't want to be in debt to her, because she's already taken everything that I am. I don't want to have to feel myself submit like I know I would.

Then I realize that if she left, I'd be losing myself all over again. She'd leave with everything, and I wouldn't have the chance to make a choice for myself; she'd be choosing for me, again. No matter the embarrassment, or gravity, or debt that I've made myself think that I owe her, I can still decide.

I can decide to tell her. To let her know things instead of _giving_ her pieces of me.

As I open the door, she has her hand raised like she was about to knock. Her face is red and her eyes are still glassy, and I remember she was crying too.

I have to blink hard to try and keep my composure, but my heart is thumping like a bass drum. I don't know where to start. But I don't have to. Before I can even think of words she opens her mouth, looking like her sound is having a hard time coming out.

"Wha-wh..." She takes a deep breath and I can see her hands shaking a little. "Why would you keep that from me." She says looking at my socks.

"What do you mean?" I can't hide the fact I am somewhat angry, more at myself than at her.

She looks at me like she was just jolted by something electric, and it takes her more than a moment to find syllables. "Do you love me?"

I'm offended. What does she think I've been doing this whole time? "Do _you_ love _me_?" my anger is apparent now. I don't know why she's crying - I should be the one crying. I'm the one waiting at her beck and call and she uses me for sex before smiling and leaving me for next time, and now she even has the only thing that I felt was min even if it was only a simple admission of words. _I_ am entitled to tears. Not her.

But she breaks down anyway. Her small tears turn into sobs and she falls to her knees in front of me, holding herself as I am horrified that something is seriously wrong.

And as dramatic as I know it is, I fall almost right with her, scooping her up in my arms and letting my own tears fall. I don't care if I'm angry - I do love her, with everything that I am, and it's not a variable anymore.. it's a fact.

She looks at me with her eyes pleading for something.

"I love you so much it hurts Kristi!" she wales. My heart's resting on my toe nails. "Every time I'm with you I feel like I'm pulling myself away from everything I know and escaping into a-a... a wonderful little sanctuary, where all my hopes and dreams and- and everything I never knew I really wanted exist. I feel like I can just BE with you... and I feel like if I were to up and walk away that you'd find someone to take my place as easily as if I weren't here at all." Her words are soaked in tears, and in turn I'm bawling like a two-year-old that got her cheery-o taken away. "I'm in love with you, and I don't know what to do."

My whole body is shaking. We're both in the same boat, aside from one circumstance. "What about Taye?" I ask in a small voice.

She shakes her head, still holding herself like she'd fall apart if she didn't. "He doesn't even come close to comparing to you.. he's a ring on my finger and a body next to me when I fall asleep thinking about you."

With that I pull her to me, hugging her hard with my trembling arms. I can feel my face doesn't have a dry spot on it anymore and I can't help but be overwhelmed with this kind of sad, shocked, crazy joy.

She loves me. She loves me like how I've wanted to be loved this entire time.

I can't stay quiet anymore. "I love you, Dee, I do. I'm so sorry if you felt that way." I pull her lips to mine quickly, then just hold her face close, resting our foreheads together as I feel her arms encase me as well. "I've been sitting here this whole time thinking you just wanted me when it was convenient and I felt used and dictated, and I just wanted to have something to myself. I didn't want to tell you I loved you if you didn't want to hear it.. and if you wouldn't tell me the same thing back I would have died." I sneak in a laugh between sobs at how silly we sound confessing our love for one another.

I pull away looking straight into her eyes, finally seeing what I feared wouldn't ever be there; the home in someone else that I didn't think I deserved. "I love you. Idina, that's it. I won't hide it anymore, I promise."

She laughs, that throaty wonderfulness that I'm crazy about. "You can't. You kinda just spilled your guts."

I roll my eyes, which I'm sure are terribly red. "Well, I'm glad I'm not the only one." I smile genuinely.

My hand doesn't hurt anymore. The thought of any wound at all has long since gone away, and somehow I feel content with what I have.

Her face comes close to mine, not stealing a kiss like she usually does, but silently asking permission like I could even say no at this point. And I give in like always, without spite or contempt, or the notion that the love that I wanted so badly wasn't there for me.

Tonight she doesn't leave. She's just there.. playing with Maddie on the sofa while I make tea and order Chinese for dinner, so we can watch bad TV all by ourselves.

No secrets. No worries.

It'll be my little dog, my old quilt and the warmth of her arms around me.


	2. Chapter 2

God, she’s beautiful.

Every time we find ourselves in bed together, after all the adultery we are fully aware we are committing, I can’t stop myself from staring at her. The way those long brown locks fall all over my pillows, playing against the baby blue of my sheets so nicely. Her skin is a lot paler when the stage lights aren’t on it, and I pride myself in being the only one who sees it in all of its milky glory – with the freckles dotting her chest and just her left hip, not the right one. I like that I’m that I’m the only one who has…

But I’m not.

I keep forgetting the fact that she’s not really mine. Everyone knows her as Idina Menzel; her stage name. But her last name has been Diggs for years now. She wears his ring. She lives in their house. He buys her things she actually wears. She hides everything I give her. Three years and I’m still just the one she pillow talks with after a show. I’m just what she decides to fill her free time with.

I suppose I've gotten used to it. It's not something I can very well change on my own - she has to want it too. And she doesn't.

It’s been exactly three years today, actually. I can still remember the first time she timidly leaned in and kissed me, like I might not return her affections. But I did! How could I not? I was crazy over her from the first time she sang to me. Sure, it was in play one time at rehearsal, but it was still to me… just for me. It was something I hadn’t ever been given before. Sang to before – yes, but not the way that she did. It was innocent and easy. There was a light in her eyes I knew I wouldn’t see anywhere else. There’s still that spark living somewhere deep down in her soul I get to experience sometimes. It shines in her smile when she really laughs that short, sharp, cackle that I love so much; when she doesn’t pretend something’s funny. I can see it sometimes when she gives me one of our secret looks across the stage when we’re both supposed to be in character. I love when she gives that to me.

But it’s the other 93% or the time that I dread. When she flaunts her ring and her husband, and kisses him when it should be me. When she’s on the red carpet and taking pictures with a man who hardly knows who she really is and refuses to really get to know her the way I do. It’s when she lies to everyone that I feel my soul being taken a torch to and burning with everything that I’m supposed to hold dear to me. Those moments make me want to forget that she exists.

But forgetting her existence makes mine an abomination. It makes me less than what I would be if I weren't ever conceived.

I need her more than I'd like to think, however true it may be, I still don't know what to do when I think about not having her with me, even if it's just those small stolen moments that I scrounge for recklessly. I feel as though my entire being would fail to so much as function in simple tasks, such as walking, talking, thinking if the opportunity revealed itself.

But more than I need her, is the need for her to be happy. I think I would sever all ties with her if it meant she could be happy without any hindrance. I would be completely miserable, aside from the small amount of comfort I would find in the knowledge of her joy.

She shifts, just a little bit.

Automatically I'm wrenched from my inner rantings to watch her again.

It’s one of the few nights we get to ourselves anymore. She’s over at my apartment, in my bed, on my sheets, sleeping as peacefully as I’ve ever seen her. I love her more than I can begin to comprehend on my own, but the fear I have in every waking minute I am with her or without her is unrelenting. I need her. But she doesn’t need me. She tells me she loves me and holds me with something that could almost resemble love, but it’s been years and she’ made no move to change our situation. I’m still nothing more than a glorified mistress in a tangled web of lies and drama and song and all the nonsense we’ve made for ourselves. I’m still just waiting. I’m used on her accord and her accord alone, and I don’t know how to do it anymore. I don’t know how to pretend I’m this strong and deny myself the kind of life I really want with her.

I find myself sighing without much realizing it. And within twenty or so minutes I drift into another dream of her.

* * *

I wake up with her arms around me, and her nose tickling the back of my neck.

A smile works its way on my face and I have no control when my body immediately snuggles into her. Her legs bend into the back of mine and her chest presses against my back. I think one of my favorite times with her are these ones; when we're able to spend the whole night together and wake up completely bare in each other's arms, without the worry of staying too long or being caught.

Taye's out of town for another audition and we have a week off from the show. Everything is peaceful. It's almost like we have a normal life together. The calm before the storm.

"Are you awake yet?" She whispers, still tickling my hair line.

"Well sure I am, NOW." I laugh.

She laughs back, and I just remain comfortable in her arms. We don't say anything for a long time; she just holds me instead, knowing that the contact, for me, is better than the words she might say otherwise. Sometimes I just need the feeling of her next to me instead of any empty promises that I've been given. Time and time again she says things; wonderful things, that make all of the suffering of seeing her with someone else might take away, but if they aren't ever granted then the pain of imagining all of those things just amplify the present searing of the wounds that have already been inflicted.

Love is a bitter-sweet curse for people like me; too weak to push something toxic away, and even weaker in trying to turn the poison for the better.

She's this poison I speak of, though I give it to myself willingly at any point that she allows. She's a drug, one which I'm addicted to, and that I fear I will never be good enough for. She's all I need, and it kills me a little more each second.

"Hey.." She says softly, kissing my shoulder and pulling me even tighter to her.

A smile leaks onto my face as I close my eyes and give a little "Hmm?" in return.

"What are you thinking about?" Her voice is sweet, like honey in tea that hasn't fully steeped just yet.

"I dunno... I guess just you, and me, and this... thing."

"Yeah? What about it..."

I feel her body stiffen almost instantly.

"Sometimes I wonder if... " Oh no. I shouldn't have done that. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. "It's nothing."

"Wonder what? Tell me."

I sigh a little, turning in her arms to look into those eyes I can't stand looking at me with those methodical stares. I look deep into them, trying to understand what she wants to hear, though I know full well I will never get there. It's much to far a distance for anyone. Especially me.

But I give in; as always. "Sometimes I wonder if you really want this, is all..." I say softly. I try to soften the blow with a light comb through her hair with my fingers, but her brow still furrows and her face contorts in a way that tells me that her walls just went up agian. The walls that I can't get past with any amount of prying or sympathy or love, or anything I've tried for the past three years.

"Why would I not want this? What makes you think-"

I have to cut off her words, she makes me want to hide when she gets like this. I put my hands on either side of her face, trying to plead with her to stop "Please, Idina.. I didn't mean to make you angry, I just voiced something I shouldn't have. Let's just calm down and relax a little longer, just while you're here with me, please?" The words are coming fast with the offense I see in her face and the way she's trying to reject my touch. "Honey, I didn't mean to-"

"Didn't mean to what? Imply that I'm not in this too, Kristi? That I'm not as much of a victim as you are?" She pushes me away from her.

I inch closer, not trying to touch her again just yet. "Dee, I'm sorry! Please, hon' I just want to be with you! I know you're going home tonight, like you always do, and I'm left here alone, wondering if you look at him the same way you look at me and hoping, maybe, I'll get to see you within the week again without the cast and crew and the cameras and the fans, an-and just trying to hold back all of the things I really want with you."

Tears are sneaking up on me. I can feel them, but I keep blinking, knowing I can keep them at bay if she just lays back down with me, just for a little while. I know I can push them aside until she leaves.

But she stays looking at me somewhere between hurt and angry. I don't know why she always looks like this the few times the subject come up. So I keep going, hoping to explain away my misgivings, if only just to keep her here a minute or two longer.

"Dee, I..." I search for words. There's so much I hold back! Where are those words when I need them? "I want to forget this, please. I want to just hold you, I want you to hold me, just for a little while. Can we enjoy our time left? We both know we won't get this again for a while. Taye's coming back tomorrow and-"

"I know when he's coming back." She snaps coldly. "He's my husband, isn't he?"

With that she's up and heading towards the bathroom, grabbing the robe she has here at all times. I scramble after her, wrapping a sheet around me feeling strangely exposed, and vulnerable, somehow combining making a little anger creating some odd fusion with the heartache I feel all the time.

"I am fully aware that he's your husband, Idina. I have to deal with it every day I look at you two. The only time I can ever forget is when you pretend I mean more to you, and that isn't very often! Is it?"

She turns around swiftly, tying her robe and glaring at me. "You think _I_ like this? I try just as hard as you do to find time when I can be with you, even when it's not easy! Why are you getting angry at me?"

I can feel the tears again, they aren't too far away, and I know I can't hold them off for long. "Because of this!" I gesture to the two of us, indicating the relationship we both deny and hide. "Because you tell me how much you love me and that you want to be with me, and you take my body and chance you get, and you're _still with him!_ You've made no attempt to be with me, Idina, _none!_ How am I supposed to feel?"

She comes toward me a little more, putting her hands on my arms and bending down slightly to give us more eye contact. "I do love you! I love you so much I can hardly breathe at times and I hate that you have to see me and him together, but how am I supposed to break things off when we're the biggest we've ever been?"

"So the fame means more to you than us?" I ask, the little spots of water starting to cloud my vision.

She notices the tears and her expression immediately softens. "No no no no, Kristi, I just..." she pauses, straining. "I-I'm not strong enough to deal with the backlash it'll bring right now. Just give me time. I promise you, we'll have everything we want, and it'll be wonderful, we just have to wait a little longer." She nodds like she's consoling me.

"I've been waiting for three years. Did you know that? It's been three years today since we first made love and you don't even care." I say, letting the tears fall as they may and pushing out of her grasp. She deserves to feel guilty right now. I feel awful - so she should too.

She advances and I take steps back to match her. I see the hurt showing on those beautiful pointed features.

"Baby, I'm so sorry... You know I'm not good at this kind of thing! I don't remember my own birthday half the time!" She pleads.

"But you remember Taye's, don't you? Don't think I forgot your wonderful little month vacation to his parent's you took this year!" I'm close to sobbing. I didn't even know I was this upset. "Did you enjoy it? Getting away from it all with your 'hubby?' I bet you two _really_ enjoyed the alone time!"

She nearly ambushes me in her embrace and I can't stop myself from clinging to her. I'm too weak to be anyone's mistress, and I'm still just here, loving her unconditionally without any independence.

She kisses my forehead and holds her lips there for a moment. Then pulls away just slightly. "I love you. I want you. I feel things I never thought I would be able to feel towards another human being because you let me find parts of myself that I didn't know where there. I need you, not only because you make my body feel like its exploding and being compressed all at the same time, but because my whole world is wrapped up in what we have. I'm going to leave him, like I've told you for so long now and I'm sorry I have to keep you waiting, but please trust me when I say I am here more than anything else, and I am yours. Do you understand?"

"I'm leaving." I say without any hesitation. I knew I had to tell her at some point, but I thought it would be closer to when I actually had to go.

She pulls back and looks me in the eye. Confusion, worry, maybe even anxiety consume her features. "What? What do you mean?"

I wipe my face with the sheet, taking a shaky breath before deciding to play with the frayed satin on the collar of her robe instead of look in her eyes. "I didn't sign the contract for the next year of Wicked. I told Stephen to tell everyone else I had to move on and.. and after my contract is up..." I find the courage to look at those chocolatey orbs I know I'll break down under. "I'm leaving. I can't do this anymore."

I break down. Tears and sobs and me choking on air that I’m struggling for all come together in the cacophonous culmination of sounds emanating from where I’m hiding my face in her robe. But she pulls away again, still holding me but looking at me straight in the face.

"No. No, you can't do this. You have to stay with me. You're my Glinda, you have to stay an-and sing with me, no one sounds like us, we're the best an-and.. I need you! Please!"

Now she's the one who looks fragile, which makes me feel all the more afraid. I feel like I'm crumbling from the inside out.

I sigh shakily, further preparing myself. "I already gave my notice, they're training my understudy; I can't go back now. And I can't wait for you for the rest of my life." I can't control how much I'm shaking. My soul feels as though it's being ripped from my body.

And it’s my turn to lecture at her. As I take her face in my hands I see her tears beginning to fall and her gorgeous lips start to quiver. She clings to my waist, pulling me closer. “Idina, I love you like there’s no tomorrow, I think about you every second you aren’t with me and it kills me because I know you’re with a man who could never feel things for you that I’ve felt for so long. I want you for your mind _and_ your body _and_ for your crazy.. and for all of the things you give me in between. I feel like I am most myself when you’re next to me, and that feeling is something I need. But.. when you’re with him,” I shake my head, feeling a new batch of tears match hers. “When you’re with him, or you leave me to go back to him I feel pieces of me die. I’m ruining myself everyday just a little more thinking about you being happy with him instead of me, but then I love you so much that if you’re happy with him then I want that for you. If you’re happy with him I don’t want to get in your way. All I want is your happiness and a chance to be a part of it… but not if it kills me – not if I have to live like this, hiding and waiting for a spare moment.”

"B-but I'm not happy without you, Kris... I love you." She pulls us together, with her forehead resting against mine, and I wrap my arms around her neck.

We just stand like this for a while, close to one another and crying together. She knows she isn't changing my mind now. She tries kissing me lightly, but it only makes us both cry harder. I think we both realize it's the beginning of the end of us, if there ever really was an 'us' to begin with.

My heart is hurting, but I know it's right. Something finally feels right for once. Even if it's something that feels miserable and like your world will end because of it; I am doing it for the right reasons.

I know she loves me. But deep down, I know she loves him more, and what he has to offer her that I can't, and the fame, and the money. I will never be to her what her husband can be. No matter how much that kills me, no matter how much I'd like to change it, I can't. The best I can do for either one of us is try to diffuse the situation before she does something that she'll hate me and herself for later. The only thing I can do is end what we never should have started.

After a while she pulls back and looks at me. We aren't crying anymore, we're in that little middle-ground just after crying where your eyes have to adjust to not producing any more tears. Her finger gently removes some of the left over moisture from my cheeks, then cups face, bringing our lips together lightly, providing more love and devotion than I've felt in years.

She pulls away slowly, scanning my face like she wants to remember it as it is right now, and I let her. Hell, I do the same. I don't know if she'll want to come back to me for the remaining months we have anymore and I need to remember her like this; like she needs me.

"I want to go back to bed." She nearly whispers. "Let's fall asleep and start over. I'll pretend I knew this all along, and we'll.. we'll just prepare, alright?" She puts on her strong face despite the tears building again that she keeps blinking away, and tightening her mouth into a straight line so her lips don't quiver.

I nod, knowing that I don't need to say anything more.

We walk back to the bed, hand in hand and remove what's covering our bodies and throw it to the floor, before crawling back in bed.

She holds me again, and I turn to her so that we can embrace each other instead. I rest my head on her chest and close my eyes listening to her heart beat and her breath making shaky patters underneath my ear. I feel her lips on my forehead again and her nose in my hairline, and I find it somewhere in me to gain a sad smile.

I cherish the feeling of her next to me, knowing it'll seem like no time until it's gone. I realize that my heart is slowly unraveling at what I've done, but I've already set it in motion. It can't be changed now. Even if I did, it wouldn't be what it was, and we'll never have what I wanted either way.

Before I know it, we're both drifting off, into somewhere much safer than where we are right now. Somewhere we don't have to dread the future.


	3. Decision

She just sits there, pretending she doesn't know I'm looking at her. But whenever we have a few moments backstage at the same time I steal little looks at her.

It always baffles me how anyone could look so beautiful even covered in green. All of her skin that's showing and then some, and she still looks like a goddess. Of course the stage makeup brings out her pointed features slightly, yet she'd still be completely visible otherwise; she's the star. She shines more than anyone else on that stage for more than just the colour she's painted.

She glances at me just for a moment before she makes her entrance onto her stage again, but doesn't hold it for long. Well, she doesn't hold it at all - just a flash of her eyes in my direction, and then she's off. She counts on how professional I am, that I won't break character on stage because of it, or for any reason, and neither will she.

Well, tonight is an exception.

People came tonight expecting to see me break at the very least, but I think everyone was surprised to see her break as much as she did. I thought she'd play the stone woman like she always does, but she'd been surprisingly weak tonight.

I'm not sure if it's because it's my last night playing her opposite, or if it's because everyone heard she and her husband in a screaming match in her dressing room earlier about something or other. I expect it to be about her spending so many nights away from home; he must know something's going on by now. She's spent more and more time at my apartment since I told her I was leaving. She's only hurting us more. Instead of weening herself off of me she's just creating more of a habit. Lately she's been the one chasing me; when do I have free time? Am I doing anything over the weekend? Do I mind if she stays the night? I even turned her down once or twice because I could hear Taye in the background, along with others of course. She liked to call in the middle of events he drags her to and see if I'm doing anything. When I let her, she'd leave them early all dolled up and just catch a cab over as fast as she can. It's actually a funny sight.

I think I see her more than he does now, but I'm still not happy. She refuses to talk about after I'm done with the show. I don't even know if I really meant to end things when I told her, but that's the way she took it, and I suppose that's the way I made it sound, and we needed the change. Or I did at the very least...

But I still don't think she really cares about me all that much. I feel as though she's just taking advantage of the time we have left, then when I'm gone she has more to look back on. She still doesn't need me. And she's only tricked herself into loving me.

I hear her sing from backstage and my heart twists a little;

I'll never have this again.  
I'll never be backstage with her again.

* * *

I cannot believe how many times she broke.

She cried during 'Popular'.

She smiled, as Idina, NOT as Elphaba on stage.

She hugged me as Idina on stage.

She messed up so many of her lines.

She even made me cry.

She held me for almost a minute after 'For Good' was done, and never has that song held so much meaning for the two of us. She whispered how much she loved me, making me sob near uncontrollably, and I didn't stop for the rest of the show.

She held me tight to her after the bows, in front of the whole audience, before we walked off stage hand-in-hand.

We weren't even all the way back to the dressing rooms when she pulled me into her and kissed me - like we were all alone. I'm sure people saw; most of the cast and some of the crew and no one did anything or seemed to act any differently.

She pulled away crying and holding me, people still milling around us, and rested her forehead against mine.

"People can see us, Dee." I whispered, tears spilling down my face.

She just shook her head and held me closer. "Everyone knows."

I sort of expected it, but a tiny shock fluttered through me anyway. We'd spent so much time together, I suppose people were bound to notice. Still, I didn't care. At least we weren't completely hidden anymore, and she didn't seem to care either.

We swayed with each other while the band played the audience out. Even after they'd stopped, she still held onto me. After a few minutes I felt her shoulders wrack with sobs. I stroked the back of her neck with my thumb, trying to make sense of her - and failing as I always do.

"Baby, we should get ready.." I said as I pulled back to look at her tear streaked face. The green was wearing off just underneath of her eyes. "We still have the after party to go to."

She shook her head again. "I don't want this to be over." Her sobs make 'over' a four-syllable word, causing a sad smile to form on my lips. "As soon as we're out of costume, that's it; it's done, and I don't know if I can handle that, Kris. I don't know if I can get through tonight - and even if I can, how am I supposed to live without seeing you everyday, and being able to look at you when I want and hold you and touch you?" She had trouble speaking through her crying.

I just wiped the saline away and stroked up and down her arms, trying to sooth her as much as I was capable. "You'll cope, honey. You have Taye.."

She scoffed. "I want you." She looked into my eyes daringly, though I'm not sure what she was daring me to do.

I smiled sadly, tucking a piece of her wig behind her ear. "You have me. You've had me for almost four years... but you chose him over me every time."

I saw the hurt in her eyes almost immediately, before she just nodded. "You're right." A new round of tears overwhelmed her, "I did this to myself - to us." She covered her face in her hands and bended to bury them into my shoulder.

Then it was my turn to hold her. I didn't even care about the after party anymore. I hated myself for doing this to us. Even though she said it was her, I know I could have stayed. I could kill myself a little more each day, and I could live as the woman on the side, and I chose not to. I chose to slowly die living without her rather than aching each time I'm with her knowing she's not mine.

But who am I kidding? I'd be miserable either way. I love her. With her I can't get past the fact she's committed to someone else, and without her, well... I'm just that; without her.

Her head raised, taking shaky unconvincing breaths, she calmed herself. "The party." she said. Then she took steps back, probably a coping mechanism - one that only further broke my heart to watch. "Let's get ready and I'll meet you in your dressing room?"

I nodded, not knowing what to do with my hands since I wasn't holding her anymore.

But she disappeared into her dressing room, and I did the same.

I took my hair piece out, dulled my makeup from the harshness of it's intended quality for the stage. I changed into my dress that someone else picked out for me to wear, and then there's the waiting.

That's where I am now. Looking at myself in the mirror and waiting for the woman I'm too deeply in love with to see straight.

I look so different now. It seems like yesterday when I was young and full of life, and everything was so bright and full of promise. I had so much hope for what things could be for me. I dreamed of this; the Broadway life, and being able to do what I loved everyday and getting paid for it. I wanted to get married and have children, be a mother and have a family as loving and caring as my own was. Maybe adopt a few children and whatnot. I wanted to be able to experience it all, but no man ever stuck around long enough or wanted to stay with me long enough to give that a try. I don't think I really would have been happy with any of them anyway.

Now I look worn-out. Disappointed. Used-up. I look like the light's just been drained out of me. All the years of wanting nothing but a woman I can't have has made my view of the world flip around. I don't think I could be happy in the kind of life I wanted way back then with anyone other than her. And if it's not her, it won't be anyone else. I'm doomed to a life of loving someone from afar that I never really have a chance with anyway.

Just as I am about to let myself cry again, she walks in. Her eyes aren't as red anymore, and she looks like she feels better.

I don't know how long I've been waiting.. I don't really care.

Her face is unassuming, and without words she offers me her hand. "I called a cab for us." she smiles, a hint of sadness deep in her voice I know she doesn't want to show. Like I don't know how to see things she doesn't want to show; like I haven't been with her long enough to know how she is.

I take her hand, willing that look to go away, and she pulls me out the door shutting the light off for me. I like when she does little things like that... when she did little things like that... Oh, God. This really is it.

She keeps holding my hand, all the way out to the limo and doesn't hesitate a bit. She doesn't let go even when we're settled and comfortable in the limo; she just pulls me closer and we ride to the club in silence, her just holding me and me letting her. I snuggle into the confines of her neck and breath in that unmistakeable scent that is all her. I try to remember all the times I was able to smell that, and have her close to me without a care in the world, if only for seconds at a time.

The limo pulls up to the club, and she lets go of my hand. I've already realized that she doesn't want people knowing. The cast and crew are one thing; we know them, have made friends with them, been with them for years - she doesn't care if they know because she knows that they're the only ones who'll know. Here there are photographers and people who could actually record us being close. I think it scares her. I know it wounds me a little more every time she takes that second look over her shoulder and moves just a little farther from me.

The light hits her face when she opens the door. Her cheek bones bounding out from her face, sharp and dangerous. But she _is_ dangerous.

Flashes from cameras puke light everywhere, and I hear lots of people talking loudly; laughing screaming. It's all too much. I wish that we were a smaller show sometimes because of how crazy people got over it. I just want a little privacy here and there, if only to spend a small amount of time more with her.

Then I see him. He's hansom I suppose. His smile is bright and he has honest eyes, but I don't know him. Only what she tells me of him. I've only met him a few times out of the years we've been doing the play and the years his wife has been sleeping with me, and I have very little knowledge of him. Yet I hate him. I just hate him for having her. I hate the fact they share a bed with one another and that she wears his ring.

I have no moral reason to be against him. I haven't exchanged many words with him at all, and my skin crawls every time he's in the general vicinity, or if I even hear of him.

Another thought places itself within my mind; he's the reason she's not holding my hand anymore.

My heart sinks lower than it has been all night. 'I don't want this kind of life' is what I keep trying to tell myself. And I don't. I hate living in some kind of awful hiding where the only thing good is what's hidden. I don't want to degrade myself to the secret.

I step out after her, smiling for everyone, and putting on that sad but happy face of the star who's leaving her stage. I am sad to leave the show; but it's time. I know when I've stayed my welcome, and now it's time for me to move on to something else. But they still love her... She can stay as long as she wants and they'll always love her.

She reaches him and says something quietly. He's not happy. I would have guessed as much from earlier, I don't know about what, but they've been fighting. She doesn't tell me, but I can sense it from her, and just about everyone heard it.

Then it happens.

That look I know I give him whenever I see him because I know what happens between them; that's the exact same look he gives me. Nostrils flared, eyes half-shut, chin going up in more than a hint of condecent.

He knows.

He walks away, toward a parking lot across the street and my eyes follow him until he's out of sight, my mind spinning the whole while.

I look to her, wondering; wanting validation. And she just nods and mouths the same thing I was thinking. 'He knows.'

Nothing else is said as we walk into the club. We see people we know, and people who know us that we're not completely familiar with. Sometimes I find it a little unnerving that people all over know who we are. And that hurts too; every one knows us.. but they don't know that there even is an 'us.'

People are everywhere. It's all a little hazy really; blurs of random people running through the club with their less than expensive dresses, cheap sequins, imitation satin... it's all too much.

Hours go by. I don't even know what I've been saying or doing or who I've been talking to - all I know is that she's been beside me the whole time. Even if we're doing two different things, she's always right there. Our arms discretely rubbing against one another, or bumping into me gently on "accident" - she's never left my side.

I can't take anymore now. No more unfamiliar faces telling me how much they loved the show, or even the familiar faces telling me how much they'll miss me in the show. All I want to see for the next matter of hours is her face, and that freckled hip, and the birthmark she hides on her back.

All I want is her.

I go to say goodbye to everyone else before I look at the brunette with sad, knowing eyes, yet never letting my smile falter.

I kiss her on the cheek, letting all the cameras flash and get the picture they'll all want to sell as soon as possible, while she leans into it slightly, just laughed - letting it all unfold.

"I'll be waiting in the limo." I whisper as I hug her tightly.

She gives me her actress 'sorrowful smile' as she nods.

She's acting for all of them.

She's still ashamed of me - of us.

It hurts. But now I'm sure what I'm doing is right: she couldn't really love me. To see me hurt like this, and if she really hurts as much as she says she does, there's no way she could do that to me. There's no way she could continue on like that and love me.

But here I am - still waiting on her to follow me to my limo, and come home with me, and use me and my body again, because no matter how many times I convince myself she doesn't love me, I can't fight the fact that I've let myself fall in love with her.

I realize I'm stupid for it, and I'm aware of the fact that I've dug myself a hole I could only dig my way out of with some honest, divine intervention. And I still make the choice to wait for her in a limo I paid for, the one I got just for the two of us.

Even if she doesn't love me back, she's still the only one capable of making me feel the things she does. Indescribable things. The kind of things you tell yourself don't exist because you're afraid no one could ever give them to you - that's what she does. And without trying at all. She makes my skin tingle, and my breath hitch with every lingering touch. She makes my toes curl under and my heart pound in my chest like I could have a heart attack at any moment. My soul flies when I'm with her; not in bed with her, just when we can spare a few moments to be next to one another. she gives me all the feelings a man never did, and even when we're an entire room away. Looking across the stage at her gorgeous lips - I feel my heart unhinge a little. And I've never even begun to know what to do about that feeling. All I _can_ do is take what she gives me.

I see her walking out, holding herself, because she's too stubborn to put a damn jacket on, and I unlock the door for her.

It isn't more than a second after she gets in that her mouth is attached to my neck and her arms are around me. I feel her tongue trace my throat, then nip at the soft spot, before wrapping her lips around that same spot and sucking on it, heavily... and I find myself not even caring that it'll leave a mark. Absentmindedly, I hit the button that tells the driver to go without having to roll down the window separating us from him.

All sense of time and direction fades as she keeps taunting me with the amazing things her lips do to me, just from a small area on my neck - and I surrender to it. Because there's nothing else I can do. My whole being; my everything belongs to this woman. And she's taking it with every inch I give. All I have to offer back are moans and gasps.

My world seems to shatter when the loud "ding" goes off, signaling that we've arrived at are destination. I'm jolted and look up, but she almost seems not to have noticed at all. She's still unrelenting on my flesh, like she's trying to remove that part of my neck just for her.

"Idina, good Lord..." I fight my own erratic breathing. "We're here, hon'."

Her lips still and she remains tucked into my shoulder for a moment.

She picks her head up to look at me, and then I see them - the tears she's trying so hard to hide or hold back, though she's doing a miserable job.

I caress her cheek, feeling tears of my own bubble up.

I kiss her as lightly as I can, knowing she could break at any given second. "Honey, let's go up now. I'll put some tea on, and we can this night whatever you want it to be.. we'll make it last." I drawl, unable to hide my accent with the stone imbedding itself in the middle of my throat.

A tear rolls down her cheek, but she nods.

I leave a tip in the compartment designated as I get out, and give her one of my coats, knowing she's cold. But she doesn't care; she thinks those kind of things are all temporary, which I suppose they are. 'Things that only last a moment shouldn't be fussed over..' she says. I think anything that makes you feel a certain way that you disagree with, you should change - no matter if they last a moment or a month.

The walk up to my apartment lasts longer than it should. I keep wanting to grab for her hand, but she doesn't do that when there could be people that could give her away around. She hates when I am close to her in public. She hates when we are in public together period, if it's not for work. So I have to hold myself at bay with all of the intimacies, even though I hate to; even though she's the one who's intimate far beyond what I do when we're alone.

Finally we're at the door. She unlocks it, with the key I gave her so long ago.

We get inside and I hate what I know I have to do.

"I need that back." I say, walking to my kitchen so I don't have to look at her.

"What?"

"My key.." I'm unable to speak whisper.

I see the pain in her features, and it kills me; there's a tightening feeling that constricts my whole upper body. It feels as though my heart is squeezing all the air from my lungs and I can feel it all the way down to my fingertips. And she just drops her gaze from mine and nods, almost apologetically.

Slowly, she takes it off of her key chain and puts it in my hand - her fingers lingering in my palm for a moment. Her eyes stay trained on the tiny metal object between us.

"I can't believe this is happening." her words are quiet; hollow.

I shake my head, turning to cross to the hard-wood from the carpet of my kitchen. "You knew it would happen eventually." I'm not sure of my own tone; I just state the obvious blankly.

"I don't know... I guess I thought you'd wait for me."

"To do what?"

She doesn't say anything. We both know she didn't mean for to leave her husband, and the silence just confirms my suspicions - just like every other time she's proven it. Tonight is no different, aside from this being the last time she'll give me that shred of hope that she might leave him for me.

I make our tea in silence. I think we both know there's nothing left to say. There's only one thing she could do to change things, and it wouldn't start with words or empty promises like all the other times. I would need proof of change, and then the actions that proceeded the change. I would need their signatures on a piece of paper, and all of her... not just stolen moments.

I also think we understand that we only have tonight left. If we talk about everything we'll only be betraying the time we have left - no matter how miniscule it may be. We would just be hurting ourselves more than what we're prepared for if we let ourselves wander back on the past and what I want that she doesn't.

I bring her her cup and stand nest to where she's sitting at the little island in the middle of my kitchen.

She drinks right away, knowing how perfectly I make my tea, but she doesn't look at me yet. I can tell she's hurting - not like I am, but it's pain. With any loss there is pain involved, but I think it's more so losing something she's grown fond of, not losing someone she truly loves, or needs for that matter.

I've realized I'm a treasured convenience. And not just for her.

I play small rolls in other peoples lives. My own story is simply one of a stand-in actress. In the spotlight and in the shadows all at the same time. She's the closest thing to a lead I'll ever have, and it's more of a supporting lead. My name will roll long after the main characters, and no one will remember me.

"I don't know what I'll do without you." she says after a long silence. "I know I'll still be... me, and act and sing like always. And I know I'll be obnoxious and weird and all the things I can't help... but what am I going to do when I need someone to understand all the things that happen in my head that I can't explain? Who's going to make me tea and run their fingers through my hair, and smell like sugar and cinnamon and kiss me an-and-" She trails off into sobs and I don't hesitate to step closer and wrap her in my arms, and I feel her cling to my waist. After a few minutes of tears she calms herself, but doesn't make any attempt to move away. "I told him I wasn't coming home tonight because it was my last night with you, and he just knew. I don't know for how long, but he blew up and we screamed at each other like we never have before about everything, not just you. I was scared; that's how awful it was. And I still didn't care. I still knew I was going home with you. I didn't care what that meant, but I needed you. I _need_ you. I can't live without you in my life, Kristi. I can't do it without you.

I feel my own tears slip. I hate myself.

"But you still told him that you weren't coming home _tonight._ "

She pulls back, looking shocked and confused. "I thought that's what you wanted?... you-"

"No." I cut her off, stroking her cheek with my thumb. "I want you to tell him it's only me. I don't want just tonight. I don't want your husband to be aware of us in our last night together, or aware that this, this thing between us is here - I want you." I can't stop more tears from rolling down my cheeks, but somehow I keep my voice under control, even as my chin starts to quiver. "But we both know that when you told him that you weren't coming home tonight meant that you'd be home in the morning... not that you were staying with me, don't we?" I say resolutely. She knows it's true. I don't need to press it further.

She leans into me again and I accept the contact. I need it. We both cry some more, knowing I'm right. All we can seem to do is hold on to one another like we're helpless in the situation. But she could change everything any time she wanted. This is all up to her. this pain - she could stop it if she wanted, but she'd rather be content with her husband and perfectly Hollywood marriage. She'd rather have her small sense of normalcy.

I'm not worth it.

"I'm going to miss waking up to you singing in the shower." she says, resting her forehead against mine and running her fingers through my hair.

I laugh, with tears still rolling down my face. "I'm going to miss falling asleep to you channel surfing."

I can't do anything more than looking in her eyes, trying to find what's not there. I want this woman. I want what everything we could have together. But I don't want to do this anymore. I can't subject myself to living like this. I love her, but I can't stay while she gives me the back seat.

With a few more whimpers, she closes the space between us and kisses me. One of the sweet innocent kisses that makes me want to cry even harder. It's mixed with tears and quivering lips. I know my heart is going to break (even more than it is now) by the end of the night. I was prepared for it weeks ago. All I want now is to savor the moment; to soak in the feeling of her skin next to mine, and try to retain the sensations only she can give me.

It starts slow, with her cradling my face in her hands, almost protectively, with her kisses growing more desperate my the second. My starts to beat faster as her fingers slide into my hair, pulling me closer. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, welcoming her proximity, wanting everything that we can have, if only for the last time.

She starts first, standing up and walking me backwards down the hallway, never letting her kisses stop.

Somehow we manage to remove all of our clothes without breaking contact for too long. Everything is familiar by now; we know exactly what the other is wanting, and what we should do. We know what we're expecting, and therefore how to surprise one another. She knows the inner workings of my heart, and what to do to make me swoon even further into a bottomless hole of hope, that will never be fulfilled.

Before I can comprehend, she's on top of me, flesh to flesh with the woman I've fallen so far in love with that I can't even see straight. She's looking at me with those big green eyes, that somehow seem so vulnerable now. Her tear streaked face is so honest; maybe the most I've ever seen it.

"I love you." She whispers.

And it's real.

She does love me.

Just not enough.

In my moment of realization, she captures my mouth again, rendering me helpless to her will. I bury myself in the emotion it harbors and tell myself to put this feeling in a little bottle to look back on later - God knows I'll miss it like crazy.

In another instant, she's inside of me. I gasp in our kiss, and move with her. My eyes close by themselves. My heart pumps faster, as she does. My arms go around her neck, desperately holding on for as long as she's in my presence.

I start to cry in early mourning of when I won't have these kinds of beautiful moments anymore.

* * *

I lay beside her, tracing little patterns on her tummy below her naval. I can't detach from her; I refuse to stop touching her until she leaves my apartment. I refuse to let this go for as long as I possibly can.

I don't know how long we've just been laying here for. I don't know how long we made love to each other without any other words besides the others name and 'I love you' over and over and over again. All I know is that for an indeterminable amount of time, we've been holding on to one another in silence, letting tears linger in our vision but not having the motivation to let them fall as of yet.

I stay staring at the spot that has become the home for my fingers tracing their little patterns, my head on her chest and hearing the steady beat of her heart under my ear. I don't know where she's looking, and I don't think I want to know. Wherever it is, I'll connect it to something that will make me feel even worse about the situation.

All of the sudden she's running her fingers through my hair. She's humming our song.

There's no way I can stop myself from looking into those big eyes, staring right back at me with just as much tears in them as I'm sure there are in mine. And she kisses me with a touch lighter than a whisper. Not our stage whispers; the ones we use backstage in the quiet of a corner no one notices we've hidden in.

She pulls away, turning her face away from mine so I can't see her crying, but her chest wracking beneath my chin tells me otherwise.

"This is it..." she cries. "You're just done with me? We're never going to have this again?"

Her words break my heart all over again.

I turn her face to mine, holding it in between my hands, forcing her to look at me. "That's not true."

"Yes it is. You're going to leave and never look back. You're going to get married and have babies and forget all about me."

"Shut up!" I yell, surprising myself. I sit up and look at her, almost crying but I still have _some_ resolve left.

She sits up too, looking at me with red eyes and a terrible quivering lip. Her mouth opens but I don't even give her the option of trying to say something.

I shift closer, taking her hands in mine and feel tears fall, but somehow my voice remains steady. "I love you. I can't tell myself I don't. I don't think I'll ever stop, but I _can't do this anymore._ I can't sit here and watch you pretend not to love me. I can't watch you with your husband and pretend it doesn't kill me." I take a breath, steadying myself. "But I will never forget you. If I ever find anyone else to marry, it'll be someone good enough to _distract_ me from you, but I will never forget us. No one will ever compare to you, do you hear me?"

She breaks down, curling over in my arms and sobs to herself. "Then why are you leaving me?"

I almost hear my mind snap. The realization coming as much to me as to her.

"Because you won't leave him or me. This is unhealthy. One of the three of us need to leave for this to be any sort of right." I'm sobbing now, too. "Taye is too dependent on you to leave you. You're too dependent on the normalcy he gives you. I'm leaving because I love you too much to do this to us; to me and to you."

We cry for a little bit longer, but say nothing else.

Eventually we crawl back under the covers, clinging to each other again. Maybe clinging to all we have left. And before I know it I fall asleep with a head ache from all of our teenage sobbing, murmuring quiet 'I love you's here and there.

* * *

I wake up to an empty bed.

There are no more tears to be shed and no more explanations, or anyone to give them to anymore.

She's gone. I feel a small part of me shatter in the realization.

I can't bring myself to do anything other than stare at the wall, wondering what comes next...

Other than that aching loneliness I already feel setting in.

God.. I hate myself.


	4. Expectation

There are always those moments when your mind wanders without your consent. It takes you to places and moments long since past and brings back emotions and sensations that you aren't fully aware of until they hit you. Often times you're hit hard, with the full force of the unparalleled strength feelings hold; especially your own. No matter how fleeting and far away they seem to be, they take you; capture you, in something so close to otherworldly that you're lost in things you don't know how to bring yourself out of... but that's when you realize you're even in it.

Then the snap - the moment you're snatched from your revery and forced back into the dreaded reality. It's jarring to say the least, but you're able to see things so much clearer afterwards.

"Miss Chenoweth!" Someone yells.

I blink, focusing my vision on something other than the empty space I've been staring at for Lord-knows-how-long.

The happiness that once came easy for me has become easy for me to _pretend_ I have. It's become a content state I float in constantly, knowing full well my happiness is long gone and surrendered at my own will. Because I'm stupid.

A boy comes running into my dressing room with a headset on. I'm so tired of rookies.

"The director is-is, uh, doing the... uh, notes thing. I thought y-"

I cut off his nervous stumbling. "No. I will be here. Tell him I'll talk to him later about the notes concerning me personally."

He nods, scurrying from the room as quick as possible. I don't blame him. I've become one of those awful 'Divas' I used to hate. Now I hate myself. For more than one reason.

I won't lie now; I have no reason to. These past few years have been some of the most unhappy of my life so far. I've sat all alone, trying to fill my mind with anything that didn't remind me of her, only to find myself thinking of nothing _but_ her.

Every once and a while I'll get an email or a text message from her. Never more than an 'I miss you,' or 'How are you?,' that I've forced myself to ignore. I can't let myself have real contact with her. I can't do it. It would only lead me right back down the path that killed me to get away from. But this feeling I have now (that always follows me around), is killing me anyway.

I've never stopped loving her. Actually, I think being apart for so long has made me love her more. So much that I've thought I hated her at times. I still think she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I still carry the burden of knowledge, that I intentionally let her go.

But looking back, I had to. I _needed_ to. Sure, I'm miserable now, but I would have been completely consumed myself in a hopeless secret if I were still with the very least, now my mind has the option of other topics, if it chose them. I don't have that constant secret to hide. Or maybe that's not true; I still hide the fact that I love her. But there aren't as heavy consequences for feelings as there are for actions. Yet both haunt me: past actions and present feelings.

I _have_ had happy moments. I find I've been able to let myself enjoy certain things, but as soon as I truly find myself being content in anything, I begin to think of her, and my heart aches because she's not there to share it with me.

Now that I think of it, that was a big part of my leaving too; not being able to spend so many simple moments with her. And that's all I really wanted - the simplicity of a real relationship with the woman I loved.

...Well, love. It's still in present-tense.

It's too easy to mix up past and present tenses now. Too often I seem to blur the lines between my dreams and day-dreams with the bitterness of my reality. The stinging notion that she exists in one, and not truly in the other, hurts more that I'd like to admit to anyone. Including myself.

The really shocking thing is that I haven't slept with anyone since her. Of course there are lonely nights that sneak up on me (that are few and far between), that I have to do her job myself - forced to be reduced to imagining it was her touching me. But that's because no one could take her place. Not in that way or any other. Not for me.

Or maybe I'm just stubborn. Maybe there is someone who could do all of these things for me that I'm just being too stupidly stuck on her, and that someone else could make me happy.

Then I remember everyone who came before her.

She wasn't the first woman. She wasn't the first who was married. Sure, she was the first combination of the two, but she was more than that. She was the first who had the strange, amazing ability to take me out of myself and to a place where I could honestly cast away the opinions of others and my yearning to please all. I could just BE. No pretense. No hindrance. No acting.

She made me feel free.

And not _just_ when we were having sex. Of course during the sex, but in the small moments when we could just laugh and be silly with one another, she made me feel that way. When she'd tell me stupid jokes and I'd laugh because she thought they were funny. Even when she'd fallen asleep next to me after a long day of rehearsal, and she'd come over just to sit with me on the couch. Her just laying next to me, I'd have that same feeling bubble up inside of me - all the way down to my toes and back up again.

Those are the moments I miss the most; watching her sleep and running my fingers through her hair, then kissing her forehead just because I could.

I miss that crooked smile of hers too, though.

And her mouth in general.

And the way her nose wrinkles when she's confused.

And the way she smells.

God, I can almost smell her now...

"Miss Chenoweth?" The same boy calls again.

I don't bother even turning around. I just look at him through the wardrobe mirror. I know I look like a bitch. I am a bitch now; who am I kidding? But it's only because I've stopped caring.

"What?" I nearly snap. God, I hated when people used to talk to me like this - but it made me tougher. I fought harder.

He's almost squirming with my eyes on him. He better get tough fast or he'll be eaten alive in this business. He almost opens his mouth, almost like he wants to say something, but closes it, scratching his head.

I look down at my nails, fairly sure he'll just leave. "Spit it out or get out, darlin'." I'm rude, but I don't care. He needs to get used to it. I'm not anything close to some others who're a little higher up than I am.

"Someone's here to see you, ma'am." his voice is like a damn chipmunk.

I don't even look up at him. "Well, who?"

"Me."

My complacent expression drops. I look up blankly, seeing her grin in the mirror. She laughs Like nothing's changed.

"How are you, stranger?" She giggles.

She shoos the boy out the door and by the time she closes the door I am up and have my arms thrown around her shoulders. I am holding her so tight, my chest hurts with the pressure. I feel happy tears in my eyes. Just seeing her again - being able to hold her - it makes my heart swell with emotion I haven't felt in years.

Her arms wrap around me, slowly constricting my torso. I feel her head drop to my shoulder and her chest expands, inhaling just as I did.

I never thought I'd feel this again. I never thought that she'd want this with me again, or that I'd let myself feel this way again... or indulge in it, rather.

I let myself laugh just so I can avoid my tears. I think it's my only defense at this point; my heart has already let her in again, or I suppose I'd never let her out of it. My only chance of composer is humor. Actors aren't supposed to _do_ emotion, but I can _do_ humor for now. It's all I can do.

I pull back, not entirely untangling myself from her. "How are you?" my hands find the familiar caverns of her face. "What are you doing here?" my voice is almost desperate.

Her smile is almost sorrowful, but not quite. There's something hopeful here.

"Well, to see you." Her voice is soft. She tilts her head, eyes tracing my face.

I laugh again. I don't know if she knows it's fake or not. "What for?" My smile holds strong for now.

She stiffens. Her mouth forcing itself into a straight line. "Well... " she swallows. "I'm not entirely sure. I wanted to see you. I just.."

She tries to shrug out of my arms, maybe a little angrily, me not letting go just yet though. "Do I need a reason? Can't I just want a little time with an old friend?"

"Sure, Dee. I was just wond'ring, darlin'." I try to keep my light little half-laugh but it's getting harder. My heart squeezes and stretches at the same time switching between happiness that she's here and anxiety that she's here..

And in a moment she is out of my arms, looking at me and the anger isn't hidden anymore. "Don't do that to me."

"Do what?"

"That. When you pretend everything's fine and it's not. I know that as much as you do. We haven't seen each other, or.. _really_ seen each other in years, and all you have is a fake laugh." I see tears welling in her eyes. "And you know exactly why I'm here."

I give in. My expression mirrors the turmoil I can't control within me. "Do I?"

"You should." She sits on the sofa opposite my mirror, looking me in the eye, her lip starting to quiver. "You don't return my emails, my texts... I'm too scared to call in case you don't answer, and I don't want to cry if and when you don't-"

"Cry in front of Taye, or to cry in general?"

The words sting me almost as much as I'd imagine they'd sting her. But it's too late now. I just keep going. "How is _hubby_?"

"Oh, God... really?"

She moves to the corner just hanging her head. "I can't believe that's what you bring up!"

"What else am I supposed to bring up, Dee?" I stretch out my arms, before letting them fall again, defeated.

She spins around, blinking wildly. "Anything else! I come to see YOU and you want to talk about my husband? Can't it be just you and me fo-"

"No, it can't, Idina! It's never been just you and me! He's always been there! He's why I left, and why we aren't together right now and you know that!"

"Why? Why do you want to bring attention to stupid shit? We can't have a MOMENT?"

"Because it's not 'stupid shit,' as you so eloquently put it. Look down right now," I point to her hand. "He is on your finger at all times. He is bound to you by marriage, and over a decade of companionship with you that you haven't hidden or felt ashamed of. He is who you chose to give your life to." A few tears find their way down my cheeks, which I angrily wipe away.

"And THIS IS _ALL_ HE IS!" She holds up her left hand. "He's a ring on my finger, and a chain that keeps me away from you." She shakes her head, openly letting tears fall. "The woman I knew wouldn't let a piece of metal stop her from what she wanted."

"The woman you know doesn't exist anymore, Dee." I don't have the strength to be loud anymore. The words are somehow calm while tears are let loose down my cheeks. "You broke her. You broke her with the secrecy and the lies and the late nights and the mornings of waking up without you. A piece of metal means nothing to me. The fact that you are _with_ someone else, physically at the very least, besides me, is what stopped me."

"Do you still want us?"

"Do you still want your husband?"

She rolls her red eyes with another lip quiver. "You always have to make this difficult, don't you?"

"No, I don't. You're the one who presents all the difficulties! You have all the power to make things simple but for som-"

"How can I simplify things, Kristin? PLEASE, bestow you're divine. KNOWLEDGE. UPON. ME!"

"Him or me." I look her dead in the eye. "It's a choice. You can't have both, and it's simple. one or the other. You complicate things with adultery." I wipe more away more tears. "And I was stupid enough to go along with it."

"So that's it. You don't want this anymore?" She shrugs, more than somewhat angrily, acting all of fifteen-years-old.

"I never said that."

"Then what _do_ you want?"

I stare in shock for a moment, before it hits me. All I can do is shake my head. I go over to my chair in front of the vanity and cover my face in my hands, unable to do anything more but sob into them.

I feel her hand on my back, rubbing gentle circles, and I don't have the heart to shrug it off.

"I can't believe you even have to ask what I want." I choke out between sobs.

We stay like this for several minutes before she draws me into her arms. Nothing has changed about her. She smells the same, I fit in her arms the same way. She's doing that gentle little nuzzling thing she used to do with her nose in my hair line. She still makes me feel like I'm safe, though I'm positive there is not a more volatile place for my emotions than with her.

Somehow I manage to wrap my arms around her as well, one hand tangled in her hair, and the other on her neck pressing her to me, my heart aching for the contact that I know I've been dying without.

"I missed you." She whispers, snuggling in to we are flush against one another.

"I always miss you.." I pull back, staring into the green eyes that I've always loved. The eyes that first captured me.

I feel myself leaning in as she does; slowly inching toward one another's lips. I feel the nervous tingle in my stomach right along side the ache that I am fully aware will stay if I let this happen again.

Our lips meet before my better judgment can stop me.

It's fire wrapped in satin.

She's gentle with me - knowing I am more than fragile at this point. But she also knows I want her: That I love her. As much as I hate the situation, I still want her, and the love we shared more. I still need her.

We disconnect slowly, breathing steadily.

"Please tell me you know I love you..." She demands, her hands holding my face, forcing me to look at her.

I nod, more tears sprawling out in the lines on my face. "I do." I manage a small half-smile.

Two quick kisses later, she embraces me again, this time tighter, but I want it - I need to feel her close to me, if only to make up for lost time.

"I love you too..." I whimper, putting a tiny kiss on the side of her neck.

I let her hold me a while longer, just breathing in the scent I've missed out on. She smells like happiness and home. Her arms encase me in the strongest sense of security I've ever been given, even though our situation is anything but secure. It has a shaky foundation, and a history of damage. But what lives inside that structure we built lives the feelings so powerful, I don't want to be without them anymore. I can feel hope bubbling further up withing me, and it's wonderful.

She pulls back, wiping my tears away with her thumbs and mirroring my smile.

"Have dinner with me? So we can talk through things?" She wraps her hands around my waist.

I nod, letting a smile take my face. "Alright."

* * *

Time passes faster than I'm used to.

I talk with the director for a few minutes before scurrying back to the dressing room to get my things and I bolt out the door as soon as possible.

The cab is slow, taking far too much time to get to my apartment than usual, though I shouldn't mind; I have three hours to get ready, and another to find this place Idina told me to meet her at.

I should be thinking more clearly. I should be breathing deeply and asking myself if I really want to get into this with her again. I should be straightening out my jumbled thoughts and soothing the lighting in my stomach, and trying to process what I want, and need to do. I shouldn't want to rush.

But I am rushing. My mind is at full-gallop, wanting nothing more than to be with her again. The small teasing time I was able to steal in the dressing room was not enough; I need more. I know full well that I want her for the rest of my life, but my heart knows it can't handle sharing her again. I need more than the sporadic heated night and soft words, and being left in it's wake in the morning. I can't share her with another person.

Yet, at the very same time, I refuse to be without her again, at any cost. I can't deprive myself of even the smallest contact because I know that I need her as much as I want her, and maybe more. I know that without even a little bit of her, I am by far more miserable than I am with her sparingly. I would rather have her next to me and dread having her gone than live in a constant state of want for something I could have but refuse to give myself, because I am selfish... even if I have damn good reason to be selfish.

Love is a terrible thing. I've decided.

I get out of the cab, with contradictory statements still rambling through my mind. I love her - done. Nothing more to be said on that front. I want her around - I don't. I need her - yes, but can I handle sharing her again?

The circles are enough to make me dizzy. Even if they are just in my mind.

Am I crazy?

I very well, _might_ be crazy.

She makes me crazy.

No... no, that's not it.

I'm crazy on my own. She makes me crazi _ER_.

There we go.

That sounds right.

...or at the very least, _closer_ to 'right.'

Damn it.

I am crazy.

* * *

The restaurant turns out not to be a restaurant at all; it's a little coffee shop we always used to go to.

I almost start crying as she comes and meets me at the door.

I can't believe I didn't recognize the address, though we never used to call it my the address, we'd walk there from the rehearsal space. It brings back so many memories that I haven't thought of it for so long, from before the affair started; when the flirting was merciless and the days (when I got to see her), were more enjoyable than the nights. When she was untouchable, and I was still very, very confused of my feelings. I can remember our hands brushing and me getting tingles, and blushing like crazy over little things.

I feel a little silly for wearing such a fancy shirt, but am secretly thankful that I wore jeans and heals.. but no one will question me. I'm me.

Shut up.

She leans in, kissing my cheek gently. "You look beautiful."

"Oh, hush... I'm overdressed and old." I joke, waving her away and completely unable to suppress my grin. "Let's go inside."

She just laughs, shaking her head, leading me inside.

This place hasn't changed a bit. Signs have been updated, cups redesigned, but our table remains pushed in the corner, dimly lit, and with the crack in the corner of the table with a tiny piece of my acrylic nail still in it from so long ago.

"Oh my goodness." I shake my head, grinning to myself like a schoolgirl. "I remember all this so well! We haven't been here in... how long?"

Her head falls slightly, looking at her fingers nervously twitching. "Not since the affair started." when she glances up at me her mouth forms a hard line. "We stopped wasting time here - we always just skipped straight to your apartment or-"

"-Or stayed in the dressing room." I nod, looking anywhere but her. "Sometimes I wish I didn't remember."

"Why?"

I shrug, gaining bravery to look at her again. "Some times it would be easier to forget - if not to pretend to be able to think about anything else, then.. at least to pretend to be dealing with everything a little better."

She keeps her big green eyes locked on me, remorse furrowing her brow. "I'm sorry."

"I know." I smile sadly. "So am I."

"You shouldn't be."

"No; I should." I shake my head. "What we did, and for how long we let it go on for - that takes two people. Neither one of us should have kept it up as long as it lasted. Neither one of us should have let it happen in the first place. We both knew the circumstances you were in - and are in, still."

I say it like I mean it, and part of me does, but my heart will always want her above all else, no matter the obstacles and moral dilemmas.

A humorless grunt of a laugh escapes from her, and a smirk plays on her lips. "Does it make me awful that I don't regret it?"

"Yes." I slip my hand into hers. "But I don't either."

She smiles lightly, almost apprehensively, and I return it. "I want to kiss you right now." Her eyes shine brightly at mine.

"You won't." I inform. Our hands remain clasped, both of us wanting that contact we deprived ourselves of before.

"But I want to." Her voice is lower, and her eyes search mine for some truth I'm sure she thinks I'm hiding from her. "Do you want me to?"

I can't help but laugh a little. "Of course I do. I've always wanted something with you without secrecy.. But you won't. Not even if I do want you to."

"Who says?"

"Well, no one, specifically. But years of habit do well to inform that your actions won't go much further than this." I wiggle our connected hands.

Her smile only falters slightly. "If I tried to kiss you, would you stop me?"

I shake me head, wishing she had the courage to actually do it. In public. I wish there weren't anything in the way of us in general.

"No." I whisper. "I don't even know if I-"

Her full lips against mine stop me from finishing my sentence. My eyes open wider than they have in years. My heart pounds in my chest. And then somehow, I let myself relax into her. My hands lift to either side of her face while I sigh into how wonderful it feels to be close to her again, how much I wanted this back.

It isn't an awful, disgusting, public display of affection teenagers so thoroughly abuse these days - it's soft, and warm. It's gentle like what I hoped for in the past.

I pull away first, with a real smile finally finding it's way to reach all of my features. I laugh at the same time I feel tears tickling the corner of my eye.

"I am going to do better. I'm going to _be_ better, for you, and with you." She takes my hands in hers. "I need you back. And if that means changing everything, then I'll make that happen."

She smiles brightly, then kisses me again, quickly but soundly. "I'll go get us coffee."

I watch her walk away as the realization of what she just did dawns on me; she kissed me, around everyone. There was no shame, no hidden agenda. She wanted me in that moment, and took the opportunity to show me that.

Maybe things really have changed.

Maybe things will be different?

* * *

Of course she came home with me, and I let her back into my life. I don't think I would have had the courage to turn her away after what happened today. I didn't just let her jump back into bed with me just yet, but I made dinner for her and we talked about where our careers have taken us, who else we've met, which led to tears over not being able to share those experiences with each other.

I asked about her husband again, to which her answer was; "I can't do it anymore. I'm leaving as soon as I see an out." and then she smiled that broken little smirk of hers and took my hand. "After that, I want to see where we stand. I want those next steps with you, if you want to take them with me."

And _of course_ that made me cry too.

We ended up making out on the couch for God knows how long before we turned on the TV and snuggled watching reruns of Criminal minds on my sofa.

She didn't ask me to wake her up. She didn't check her phone. In fact, she turned it off long before we started making dinner. I realized a little after an hour of her asleep beside me that she didn't care when she left. She didn't once check in with her husband or talk about him unless I brought him up first. She didn't talk about going home.

For the first time in far too long, it was just us.

And I was happy.

* * *

I wake up in the same position from the night before, resting my head on her chest and her sleeping peacefully under me.

The clock across the room says "9:37" in the morning, and she's still with me.

I look at her for a little while. I think of the first times we woke up together, and how it seemed like those days would go on forever. And in some ways they have, for me: I think back on them all the time. Yesterday, and waking up this morning holds a small parallel to that time when what was between us wasn't so complicated; when I thought things would just work themselves out.

Even though I know better now, I do think things will be different now. If not for the fact her actions are so drastically different from any other time, then because there's a feeling of calm that seems to be surrounding us now. I can breathe a little easier. I'm not worried that she'll bolt out my door as soon as she wakes up.

But I want to know anyway.

I tilt my head up slightly, placing delicate kisses on her jaw and nuzzling her ear. "Idina.. wake up, darlin'." I say gently.

She shifts slightly, not quite awake.

I move so I am completely on top of her and pepper more kisses on her face.

She slowly wakes up laughing at me, and eventually starts kissing me back.

I sigh as I pull away. "Well, good morning."

"What time is it?" She says in her raspy, morning voice.

"Half past nine." I drawl, not caring how I sound with her. "Do you want some breakfast?"

She smiles, looking deeply into my eyes. "Yes I do."


	5. Foundation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shed more tears making this than reading anything else. This was awful for me.

Another year goes by. I should've known.

Things have changed for the better, but sometimes I think she is still in that same mind-set that I'm just her play-toy. That she can take me between her teeth and shake me until I squeek like a little woodland creature just for her enjoyment. And I've done that. I've changed though. I want more than that. I need more than that if we are to keep up this.. this almost relationship she relies on so much.

But Taye knows. I suppose that changed things more than anything. She spends nights here and lets him know when she won't be home. She openly neglects him for me, and though, at certain points, I feel a sense of victory over him, it's still a contest. I don't want to win time, or win her because this isn't a game. I don't want to play like this is a game, this is our lives. The way we live it shouldn't be spun between two homes trying to see where you want to be more, or who you love more, or why. She should have made her choice by now, but she hasn't.

I have to keep telling myself that I love her. I have to remind myself why I keep putting myself in this situation, and I shouldn't have to do that. But every time she leaves I find myself wondering why I'm still here; why I'm pacing while she keeps me on a string, dangling while she continues to put off decisions that should have been made a long time ago.

My phone rings across the apartment and I have to run to go and get it.

Guess who?

"Hey, honey.." Her voice is strained. Something's not right.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

There's an obvious pause. "Can I come over?"

"Of course. Are you going to tell me what's going on now or when you get over here?" I try to keep my voice as calm as possible.

"I'll see you in a minute."

"I love you..."

She takes a deep breath. "I love you, too."

She hangs up and I'm left to wonder.

I hate when she does that. She makes me crazy with how much I worry about her.

But I figure there's no time to worry over it because she'll be here in a few minutes. In the mean time my stomach chruns of it's own accord. I hate that I love her so much that I can't even go ten minutes after a phone call without getting all shaky and wondering exactly what's going on. The last time she called me like this she was in a screaming match with her husband and I could still hear him in the background, and calling me names I'd rather not repeat.

Now I don't know what was wrong. I heard her voice all strained and raspy like she'd been crying. Just the thought of it made me want to cry. And I hate when I cry.

I think back to the last time she was over. She stayed for over a week and we did everything together. We'd stay up all night with crappy tv and chinese food, fooling around and not caring wheather the neighbors could hear or not. Then she'd wake me up tickling my sides until I couldn't breathe and kissed me over and over again. Little moments like that made me want to keep her with me forever and ever, no matter how much I hated being caught in the middle of a web of lies and secrecy, even if it had lightened slightly.

Before I know it, there was a knock on my door.

I don't think I'd ever ran to it that quickly, but my stomach was swisting around so much I didn't know how much longer I could see straight without some answers.

As soon as I opened the door and saw her face I knew I was right. Her eyes and underneath of them were all red and puffy. I ushered her in and closed the door.

"Dee, baby, what's the matter?" I drawl, not realizing how thick my accent is when I'm worried.

Her chin quiveres and she can't look at me. She's fighting back tears and pacing around the kitchen, like she can avoid what she came over here to talk about.

I go and take her keys and her bag from her, setting it down on the table. I try to get close to her but she won't stop moving. "Dee, I need to you to tell me what's going on."

She shakes her head. "Krissy, I don't know this time.."

"What do you mean? Baby, if we don't talk about this then how are we gunna solve it?"

The tears start working thier way down her face and I can't take it anymore. I grab both of her hands and hold her in front of me. "Hey. Hey hey hey... look at me.." I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her to me. It doesn't take long before she leans on me and lets her tears out, encasing my shoulders in a needy embrace. I rub my hand up and down the length of her back. "Ssshh... it's gunna be alright."

"No. No, I don't think this is going to be alright. I don't know what I'm going to do about this one..." she sobbed. I hate that I can feel them attacking her body.

" _We,_ honey.. _We_ are going to figure it out." I pull back, trying to look at her but she covers her face with her hands. "Can you look at me?"

My stomach drops as she just keeps hiding from me.

I can't stand just looking at her like this. I push her lightly over to the couch and sit down with her. I don't know how long she keeps crying to herself, but she doesn't give me anything to do. All I know how to do is caress her back and try to calm her down, but it's not working. Everything runs through my mind - from Taye beating her to cancer to one of her parents dying, and all of it makes me want to dig my head in the sand.

"I hate myself so much right now." she sobbs.

I scoot closer. "You have to tell me sooner or later." I shake my head, running my fingers through her hair. "Dee, I love you, and whatever it is I will love you, and we can deal with it.."

She shakes her head again, finally looking at me. "I love you too." She took both of my hands and looked straight in my eyes, looking for something I don't know I can show her. "I'm going to tell you right now that being with you makes me happier than anything.." she's fighting back tears again, and it makes me more worried than I've been in a long time. "..and that I hate myself so much right now.."

"Dee. What is going on. You can tell me anything and everything and it won't change anything because we're in this toge-"

"I'm pregnant."

My whole world stops. My face drops and I feel all of the blood rush from it. I let out a huff of air at the same I have to get up and let go of her hands. It's my turn to pace. Tears rush to my eyes and I don't know exactly how to define the feeling in my stomach but it's terrible; it's worse than the one that I had waiting for her to get here and I don't know what to do with my body. Something inside of me has more anxiety than I've ever felt before, and I am at a loss in every sense.

The only thing that pulls me out of it is hearing her sobbing behind me.

"Kristi, I'm sorry.. I ju-"

"Don't." I cut her off. Now I couldn't look at her. I didn't know what to think.

"I'm sorry! Don't you see that?"

My back is still to her. "What happens now?" I ask, feeling that tell-tale lump in my throat.

There's a long pause. I know what comes next even though I hate it.

I don't give her a chance to answer anymore. "You're gunna stay with 'im, aren't you?"

"What choice do I have?" she cries.

I turn back around, not knowing where the sudden anger I feel comes from. "The choice you've _always_ had, Idina! The choice I've _always_ given to you! You could be here, with me, and any time, and you _still_ chose him! Now you have his baby, and I will _still_ love you, and want her here..." I feel tears spill out, against everything that says I'm supposed to be the strong one here.

"I-I can't ju-"

"Then go."

Her face goes blank, and she gawks up at me. "What?"

I drop to my knees in front of her and take both of her hands. I'm pleading, even though I know it's not going to make a difference. "A baby will change everything. Now is the time you choose - him or me. This is it."

A new round of tears spill from her face and I find myself hating the world. "I can't... My parents... Kristi, I have to give whoever I made both of thier parents, together - I can't leave him now. I-I-I love-"

"No! No, no, no.. God, Idina..." I thrust my face against hers, kissing her with everything I have. "Please don't do this." I say against her lips. I can taste our tears together. "We can have this baby together? I don't care if it's his, I love you, please... we can do this."

I feel her start to shake her head and crumble to the floor, curling over and covering my head. All I can do is cry.

I've really lost her this time.

There's suddenly a hand on my back and I flinch against it. I don't want her to touch me. She's made her decision and I can't have her here anymore.

"Get. Out." I say with more conviction than I've been able to say to her in so long. I hear her stumble over some words, but I can't stand it. "LEAVE, IDINA! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I DON'T WANT YOU HERE!"

Of course it's only half the truth, but I can't have her here anymore. I can't do it. She's finally chosen and it's not me, so I can't have her here anymore.

I only hear more sobbs and her keys as she heads for the door. I almost want to look up at her, but all my energy is huddled on the floor, keeping me in the little ball I've made for myself. I hate this. I hate the universe. I hate the way I feel, and that baby, and her husband, and her, and myself. I hate myself more than anything.

I hear the door open, and it lingers for a moment. "I love you."

Those were her last words before the door shut, and they cut into the fibres of my soul. I love her more than anything else in this world, and I always will, and I think that's why I hate her so much in this moment. She knows how much I love her, and that I would do anything for her, and she still chose him.

Yet those last three words echo in my mind over and over again. I cry myself to sleep in that spot, knowing that it's over. She finally chose.

* * *

There's a phone call from a number I deleted a long time ago. Eight months ago? I almost don't recognize it.

Almost.

"Hello?"

"Kristi?"

"...Hi. Wha-what's.. uhm... why are you calling?"

"Kristi, he's beautiful."

My heart breaks a little more. "Him?"

"Walker. He's so wonderful..."

"What-uh... when did you...?"

"Just an hour ago, I think." She sniffles.

I lose almost all of my breath. _She's a mother,_ I realize. Tears come out of nowhere. _And I'm not there..._

"I want you here, Kris." I hear sobs. "I want you to look at him with me, an-and smile, and cry, and pick out who's features he has. I hate this so much..."

"Where's Taye?" I ask, not even out of spite this time.

"He went to call his family, so I needed to call you..." She paused. I could hear shaky breaths. "I wish you would have been here instead of him. You would have held my hand.. he couldn't even stay in the room, he looked like he was going to puke."

"You were alone?" I asked, wanting nothing more than to hurt that man as much as possible.

"No.. the doctors were here.."

"But no one else was helping you?"

Silence.

"Idina.."

"I miss you."

Silence.

"I still love you, Kristi. I hope you know that.. even though I-"

"I have to go." I lie. "We're rehearsing, and-"

"I know." she cuts me off.

I cry a little more. "Will you kiss him for me? What's his name, again?"

She laughs. "Walker... yeah.. of course I will."

"Well, I-"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Can I see you?"

A pause. "I don't know..."

"Where are you?"

"New York."

I hear her sigh and sniff a little. "Promise me the next time you're in California, that you'll call me? Please?"

"Idina.. I-"

"I need you." she whines. Not pathetically - desperately. "I need you to meet him. You're going to love him as much as I do, I know it."

Silence.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Another sigh. "Alright. Go back to rehearsing... I love you.. alright?"

I nod, even though she can't see me. "Alright.. I love _you._ " I sniffle, and hate myself a little more.

"Bye." she whisperes.

"Bye."


	6. Devistation

I've never been the one to make decisions.

I hate myself for it, but it's true. I'm the one that goes on auto-pilot because I hate doing anything that will fuck anything over. My life, has and probably always will be, in the hands of others. The only things I think I've ever done for myself is figure out what roles I did or didn't want. I can figure out characters. I can sing a song. I can decide to go somewhere. I can't decide what I want with my life.

My feelings dictate themselves. I can't help that I fell in love with a tiny blonde siren, or that I feel safe with the overly charming and extremely attractive black man I met fifteen years ago. And still, I don't know if I ever really loved him like I love her.

Sometimes I look back and I see it. Our whole relationship has been like high school, and he just stuck around instead of actually graduating and going on to something he really wanted. Me - I already told you.. I can't make decisions. He stuck around, so I did too. It was that simple. Then he wanted to get married, so I said yes.

I never expected to meet anyone that would make me want to make decisions. I never expected I would actually feel for someone so completely that it would make me want to change my life.. yet there she was; all smiles and giggles like some kind of real-life barbie. And then she was so much more than that. Then she was honest, and beautiful, and told me things that I didn't know, and didn't want to know because I didn't think I was worth it. Then she became more than a figure that stood next to me and I harmonized with because someone else handed me music - she became my only friend who knew me, and the only one I would tell things to. She was someone I wanted to have next to me all the time, not just as someone who looked good taking pictures next to, or that wanted me to be there - she became that one person that I craved being around. She was the only person who could make me nervous, or smile like I really meant it. She was the only one who knew how to make tea just the way I liked it, or how I ordered my coffee when I didn't feel like waking up, not just because I wanted coffee - and she's the only one who knew the difference.

And she's the only one who didn't make the first move. I can remember how nervous I was when I first tried to kiss her - I remember I was shaking, and she just looked at me and smiled, and leaned in too.

Right before she pulled away and shook her head and told me I was married over and over again like I didn't know. But she kissed me again anyways and I do anything but kiss her back even though in the back of both of our minds, I'm sure, we were telling ourselves how wrong this had to be.

She unraveled me in every way possible and I couldn't hide from her. I didn't say anything and it was like she could just read my mind.

Then the sex, which was not only the best I've had to date but the only times I'd ever felt like anyone really knew me.

And then the day I told her I loved her, and that I knew she loved me. I could always tell just in the way she looked at me - more so than any man including my husband did, or any actor in anything I've ever been in. I think the thing I love most about her is that she can't hide anything from me. She's just an open book, and reading her is like reading a master piece. Being with her in general makes me feel more alive, and more like myself than I've ever known and I hate it, because I can't make decisions.

I hate that I let someone else decide for me before I found her. Or before she found me.. or whatever. Before we happened upon each other. But there's nothing I can do about the past, and the more I try to unravel things in their completely fucked state and that going into the future, I don't know what I'll do. I don't know if I have the will power to _do_ anything. Although I want to. And I've wanted to for so long, but I don't know if I really can.

For so long my heart has been one place and where my "life" is, is a completely different place altogether.

I knew she wouldn't call me. I don't think it hurt that she didn't call as much as that I knew the reason behind it; because I'm not just me anymore, and I'm not just the wife of a man who doesn't know me half as well as he should. She knows that I'm part of a family now. I know that changes things too, but I don't want it to. I just want everything. I want it all to be alright and not have to change a thing simply because it would be so much easier. That makes me sound like such a child, but it's what I want. I want to give my baby both of his parents, happily together even if it is obliviously, and I want her in my arms and on my skin and in my bones without having to change anything. But that would kill her. And it wouldn't be fare to Walker to let him be raised in a lie.

I didn't know she was there.

They say ' _Yeah! We want you on the show! Come take a meeting!,_ ' and I'm rushed into the studio.

We are walking past the dressing rooms and I hear it; that voice that I know better than any other, singing like a little bird.

I stop in the doorway and her back is turned to me.

" _...bells on the hill... though I never heard them ringing. No I never heard the-_ "

"Kris."

I see her stop. Her shoulders drop before she turns around, and when she does her eyes are wide, and her mouth hangs open a little.

She stumbles over her words for a moment. "I-uh... hu-hi... uhm... what are you doing here?" She manages, playing with her nails but she can't look away from me.

"I'm doing an interview.. and probably going to be on the show." I say without almost any emotion. I want to rush over and wrap my arms around her, just to make myself remember the way she feels, but the production manager is still standing right behind me. "What are you doing here?"

She smiles a little, looking just behind me. "I-I, was.. uh. I was just filming... done now. I finished the episode, now."

God, I missed that twang.

I turned around smiling a big, fat, fake smile at the chubby man. "Would you give us about ten.. fifteen, maybe?"

The man just nods and walks further down the hall. As fast as I can I'm inside the dressing room and closing the door, locking it without a second thought.

In no time at all I'm swallowing her little body up in my arms, holding her close to me and breathing deeply. But she isn't touching me.. her arms are purposely hovering over me in order not to make contact, but I can't let that get to me yet. I need a few more moment of _just_ being close to her. I need to remember the way she smells, and how she feels in my arms.

"Idina.. I really don-"

"I missed you so much." I cut her off. I don't want to hear how she thinks we shouldn't see each other. I can't do that anymore. It hurts too much and I need her.

"Please let go."

"Why?"

I hear a shaky inhale of air. "Just.. please."

She sounds like she could burst into tears at any moment, and I don't want that. So I pull away, but I still keep her close. Just close enough so I can still see her face.

"You didn't call." I almost whisper.

She nods. "I know. I couldn't."

"Why not?"

Tears start to build in her eyes. "What would I call for? So we can do this?" she motions to how close we are. "So you can hold me and tell me you love me again and for us to get wrapped up in the same old nonsense we've known for so long? Because I can't do it anymore. I can't and I won't, and I'm miserable, but I might even be more miserable knowing you only love me behind closed doors."

With that she's out and packing her things again.

"That's not true." I say. I don't feel tears anymore, though.

"Yes it is, Idina. And I'm not going to put myself through this again."

"Your hair is short."

She doesn't say anything back.

"It looks good on you."

She spins around. "Don't compliment me. Don't even say anything. In fact - I want you to leave."

"No you don't."

"YES. I do." She nods, trying to convince herself.

I can't take it anymore. In a few short steps I'm there in front of her, and before she can do anything my lips are on hers and I don't let go. She only stiffens for a moment, then she's kissing back and sliding her hands to the back of my neck while I pull her in flush against me. I feel her mouth strain to move and hear the whimpers of her starting to cry and at the same time a big knot forms in my stomach.

"I hate you." she whines.

"I love you."

She just shakes her head, not making any attempt to move away, and she's fighting the tears like a pro.

"Have lunch with me. Please."

"No, we can't do this again."

"I want you to meet Walker."

Her head snaps back and I see the pain written all over her face. "Why?"

I loosen my grip and hold both of her hands in mine. "You two are the most important things in my life, and you haven't met each other yet." I laugh completely humorlessly. "I, personally, think it's about damn time."

She just looks at me for a moment, cautiously more than anything. All over her face I could see the hurt, and the ware, and the years of pain I'd put her through. I could see how much she was trying to fight me and possibly say no. I could tell that she wanted to say no just as much as she wanted to say yes.

"Just for lunch?" She asks quietly.

Nodding is all I can seem to do.

"And then you'll take me back to the hotel?"

"You're staying in a hotel?" I ask, half appalled.

She rolls her eyes. "I don't have a place here anymore, Idina. I haven't for a long time; I can't-" she pulls her hands away from mine and turns away. I can see her shaking her head as she flits around the room some more. Taking her things from the makeup table and unplugging her chargers from the wall. All of it preparing to get out as soon as possible, and I'm sure away from me as well. I don't know if it hurts more to think that she can't stand to be around me anymore, or that I made her like that.

I take a seat on the sofa and watch her as she packs all of her things. "I'm sorry, you know."

"Sure, you are." she says under her breath, not looking at me.

I sigh. "I am. You might not believe me but all I can think about is how much I mi-"

"You have a meeting, you know... you should probably get to that."

Her words are cold. It's like she's just hollow - not anything like the woman I met all those years ago dressed mostly in pink and beaming every moment of the day. She's lost that light that I fell in love with... and I think I'm the one who took it away.

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, so much that I can hardly keep the tears from my eyes. But I refuse to cry. We've cried so much together and apart, and I can't do that to her now. She shouldn't feel sorry for me. I'm the one who's done all the wrong.

"Do you really hate me that much?" I ask, staring at the back of her head.

Her shoulders drop and she stops moving. "I don't know how to hate you." she nearly whispers. "I love you so much I don't think I have anything else on my mind most of the time."

She turns around looking at me with her big blue eyes, her mouth turned down in an unintentional frown that has worn itself on her face.

She shakes her head, never breaking eye-contact. "I don't even know how I can love you anymore. Every time I look at you, or hear anything about you, or - just any of it. Every time you pop into my brain, I miss you. I can't help but think of how much I want to be with you and how you've never really wanted to be with me."

"That's not true! I alway-"

"Stop." She says, closing her eyes, but her expression doesn't change a bit. "Please don't say it anymore. It just confuses me, and makes my heart hurt, and fills my head with things I know will never come true."

I can't say anything. There's nothing _to_ say. She's right, and I've said so many things that I don't think I'll ever be able to live up to, but I want all of the things I promised her. I've broken all of them, but it doesn't mean I didn't want them. I wish she were inside of my head and could feel how I feel when I'm faced with any kind of decision. When someone asks me something and all I can do is shrug, because I don't know what to do. I have other people decide. That's one of the perks of having 'people' and agents and things, so that they can tell me what I'm doing next. I wish she would just tell me what to do, and then make all of the decisions afterward. I wish she could see that I'm not strong enough to do that. I've never been strong enough to break or make any ties that really mean anything. I've never really been strong - in any sense.

Before I know it there's a knock on the door.

"Miss Menzel?"

She looks at me again. Her face is blank, like she has nothing left to offer. "You'd better go."

"But I'll see you for lunch?"

She nods, looking to the floor.

"Alright." I smile, at least looking forward to her agreeing to see me again. "So, in about an hour?"

Her eyes don't move. "You still have my number."

"Okay.." I move to hug her, but she doesn't move. She just keeps staring at the floor like I'm not even there. So I kiss her temple, and her eyes shut. "I love you." I say quietly.

I don't wait for a reply, more so being afraid there won't be one at all, and head out the door, and follow wherever the little man with the head set it leading me. But in the back of my mind all I can think about is her... just like most of my days.

* * *

I don't know why I agreed to this.

I can sit perfectly lonely all by myself. I've gotten good at it.

Something about the way things ended gave me a safe sense of closure. Even though it killed me and I didn't talk to anyone for days, I was still better off. Better than left hanging on like the stupid marionette doll I'd been playing for so long. I'd been working, and being happy while I kept myself busy and not being able to think about her. And there she was - walking into my dressing room like she owned that too.

But I'm not fooling myself. I'm just as unhappy as I've been forever. I hate that I am perpetually in this teenage, love-sick, disgustingly devoted mind-set that I've been stuck in since I met her. But I can't seem to do anything about it anymore. The longer I try not to think of her, the more depressed I become, and the more I end up thinking about her. That's why I keep myself so busy - taking as many jobs as possible. I don't care what they are, so long as I don't have to be by myself with my own thoughts for too long. Because I know where they lead, and I end up falling asleep cold and lonely. Even Maddie feels down more often than not because of me.

So here I am - waiting at a table in some restaurant I've never been to before with reservations under her name. She said she was almost here fifteen minutes ago.

I don't even know why I'm here.

To be drawn in again?

To get my heart ripped out and handed to me on a silver platter?

To meet a child that will never be mine?

Sometimes I think she likes seeing me in pain, because she always wants to see me, and every time I see her I'm in pain. And yet, I'm still here. Just waiting and wondering what the hell will happen next. It's all up to her and what she wants. All I do is give in, because I'm pathetic and can't live with or without her - or not happily, anyway.

"Wow." I hear behind me. I turn already knowing who it is. "You actually came.." she laughs a little.

I see the stroller, and my heart breaks.

"Of course I came. I said I would."

She walks to the other side of the table, sitting and adjusting the stroller so she can see... God, I forget his name. So she can see her son.

Her sunglasses come off and she puts all of her things in the small compartment under the baby's seat.

I just try to focus on my starter-salad, but can't seem to stop staring at him. He looks so much like his dad, only with lighter skin, due to the mix of his parents. He's sleeping so quietly, not at all like his mother, but his lips are doing the same things hers do when she's knocked out cold; that little puffed out, half-openness I loved to look at.

"How old is he, now?" I ask, only being able to tear my eyes away from him to look at his mom.

She smiles down at him too, a look in her eyes that I've never seen before. "Coming up on three months now.. just in a week or so."

His eyes are clamped shut...He almost looks like a little doll, he's so perfect. I can see little bits of her in him - none that I can immediately point out, and even more so like his father, I can't even stand it, but I can't stop staring. I keep thinking to myself that we could've had him. That I could be happy with her and a baby and not care in the slightest what everyone thought.

And then I look at her, and she would. She cares so much about what everyone else wants from her that there is no way in hell she'd let herself be happy with me in the public eye.

And in that same thought I hate myself for coming here.

I just nod. "He's perfect." I say sadly. And it's true. Everything about him looks flawless... just like her. Just like I imagined her child would be.

"Do you want to hold him?" she asks with a hopeful smile.

My mind goes from accepting to refusing more times than I can count just for the fact that I don't know if I could stay numb through the emotions holding him would bring. But he's a baby; of course I want to hold him. I nod before my mind can decide 'no' for me.

And she unbuckles him from the stroller, taking him out gently, expertly, and hands him to me in a smooth motion.

He's so small in my arms. I look at him in amazement. Ringing through my mind over and over again, is 'She made this'... like I am so in awe by an infant. Like I've never seen one before. Tears rush to my eyes like I knew they would. I run my finger gently over his brow - the barely-there little eye-brows that will grow to frame his face boldly like his parents in time. He's so fragile. Knowing that something so small and precious changed everything in my world made me hate the idea of him, but holding him, smelling the baby scent he carries, it just makes me fall in love with him. In this moment all I want is to have them both - to take him and his mother home and try to feel out our little happily-ever-after.

I shake my head and blink, trying my damnedest not to cry. "You were right, Dee.." I almost whisper not even looking up from his perfect little face. "I love him... I love him and his tiny nose... and that he's yours." Then I do look up at her, and the tears brimming in her eyes. "You're a mother now.."

A tear falls and she catches it right away.

The waitress comes and sees the delicate moment, and immediately walks away with only a polite nod.

I wait until she's out of an earshot. "We talked about kids... do you remember?"

She looks down at her empty hands and just nods.

"You knew how much I wanted to be a mamma. I wanted to do this with you.."

Still silence. I don't know if she's too ashamed or embarrassed to say anything back, but it kills me all the same.

"Do you have anything to say?" I ask, maybe gaining some of my independence back.

She looks at anything but me. "I'm sorry... I hate this too."

"You hate this, but you barge in on my life all full of smiles and telling me how much you miss me like it's going to make up for anything."

The baby shifts and whimpers in my arms as my voice raises. It comes as instinct to gently rock him and make little "Sshh"ing noises. And as he settles again and relaxes his facial muscles, he looks like her again for a moment. I kiss his forehead and just stare at him for a moment, before she breaks me from my thoughts.

"You would have been a wonderful mother." she whispers, hugging herself like _she's_ the one about to fall apart.

I stay stone-faced. There's no way to show how much I'm hurting anymore. It's constant. I want something I will not let myself have anymore, and I will remain miserable because of it. It's both a choice and a terrible fate that I brought upon myself in a way.

"You're right." I say, resolutely. "I would have been a natural at it, and I still could be... but you won't ever see that."

As carefully as I can, I get up and cross the table, handing him back over to his mother. Her arms cradle him on instinct alone, transitioning exactly to match his tiny frame. She adjusts him and before she can turn her attention back to me, I place a small kiss on his forehead, lingering only for a moment, savoring. Then I straighten up again. I take a step away and look her in the eyes, that are now about to spill over.

But I can't go back now. We can't go back.

"I meant what I said before, Idina. This can't happen again. I won't let it - for his sake." I cast a glance at the sleeping piece of magic in her arms.

I grab my bag and gather my things from the table, and turn to go.

But I know I'm not done. I can't leave things untied and messy like she did. I can't ruin things that way when she has a family to raise now.

So I go back, close enough for just her to hear.

"I love you. I will always feel for you more than anyone else in this world, but I meant what I said when you made the decision to be with him - that this is over." I take a deep breath, stepping away again. "Take care of him."

And without any words from the woman I am sure has permanent reign over my heart, I walk away. I walk past the questioning eyes of all the restaurant staff and the holes burning a hole in my back from her eyes. I walk away from everything I'd ever wanted, and not for the first time. Hopefully it's the last time...

...I can feel myself break a little more.

I didn't even cry this time.


	7. Recolection

She's so close... we're dancing. Why are we dancing?

It's lunch. We took a late lunch. Together. Except we aren't eating lunch. We're just dancing around in her dressing room for no reason at all.

Why are we dancing?

We were eating salad until she started just picking instead.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

What's wrong? I know what's wrong. I always know what's wrong with her. Or to some extent. I always know.

She just shrugs.

She isolates herself. By not saying anything or by saying things she doesn't mean, she just puts herself in a corner and no one can reach her.

I try. God knows, I try so hard. But it doesn't work. It couldn't work. Not with someone like me, who she feels is just so goody-two-shoes, and prim and proper. It would never be possible to even cross the room, let alone be allowed in her little corner. I want to be in the corner, if not with her then to just see what it feels like. To understand a corner of her mind. To understand just a little bit of her would be wonderful. Enlightening? Moving? Beautiful...?

Or maybe it would be dark and scary.. maybe I wouldn't like being there at all. Maybe I would hate myself for wanting to go there in the first place. Maybe I would start to hate everything?

Who knows what it would be like. I don't even know if she knows what it's like - if she pays attention.

"You can tell me, you know..." I look into the the deep brown eyes. They look greener today, for some reason.

She just shakes her head. "Nope."

"Why not?"

An empty smile fills her face as she looks up at me. "There are too many reasons."

Her eyes stay on my face. Not in one place - all over it. I see her searching for something. For what, I have no idea, but the fact that she wants to find something is so clear I could reach out and grab it.

A few moments go by before I can't wait anymore.

"Is there anything I can do?"

She takes a small bite of salad. "I don't know. Probably not."

"Well, is there something you _want_ me to do?" I probe further, smiling bigger as her expression softens.

"Yeah... there is.." she smiles. A big smile. One that reaches all the way to her eyes and she sits up a little straighter. " Put on a song. Any song."

I do. I don't remember which one, but I do. I'd do anything for her. So I do everything I can for her. Even if I can't help but feel it will never be enough.

I don't know which song, but it's a song. It's some kind of music that makes her get up and grab my hand and pull me out of my chair and spin me around with her.

I can't breathe.

I can't speak.

My heart is racing.

I can smell her...

What is that?

It smells like home and happiness.. and something sweet just wrapped up all into one. I want to smell this forever. God, what's happening to me.

Sometimes I feel like I can't control myself around her. Like if I make one wrong move, everything will go to hell and I wouldn't get to be close to her at all any more. I wouldn't get to see her smile or hear that laugh... or do anything with her. I don't know what I'd do then...

But we're dancing.

Dancing and laughing like nothing can touch us.

Or maybe we're just spinning around... She has me by the waist and we're swaying and turning to the subtle music coming from my phone.

What song is that?

I don't care. The song doesn't matter. She matters. She's so close, I can feel the heat coming off of her.

Her smile is radiant, pointed up toward the sky with a beautiful laughing sound erupting from it. Her hair is perfect. It flows and shines like it always does. It feels strange because she's so much taller than I am. I try to reach for her shoulders but I feel like I'm straining to get there, so I just rest my hands on her upper arms.

I can't help but look up at her. She's heavenly. She's wonderful. I want to dance with her every day.

"You're so beautiful, it's not fair!" I catch myself saying.

She slows our dancing.

I don't like it. I want to not care about what else is going on and dance and forget the world. Slow means I think slower. Slow means I think **too** much and have a higher chance of saying something that will ruin everything.

"Fair to who?" she giggles.

I shrug. "Everyone. All of us commoners."

She just laughs as she takes my hand and spins me. My head whirs around more than it was before and I'm dizzy. By the time she goes to pull me back I lose my footing and nearly fall.

Before I can take in anything else, I just see her eyes, and feel her pressed against me. She's breathing almost as heavy as I am.

I can't say anything. I can't feel anything but her and electricity running through my body. God - what am I doing?

Where in the world is my head that I would let this happen?

Do I want her? - yes.

Have I tried desperately to ignore it? - Of course.

Before I can find the conviction to thank her and slip away from her arms, she leans in. Her eyes float closed and I feel her breath on my lips and butterflies engulfing my stomach simultaneously.

My head tosses the options between pulling away and lunging forward and seeing if what I've been dreaming about is really there. Seeing if what I've been wondering is real, finally knowing what would happen if I lost myself in her and everything she is... if I just let whatever happen, happen, and reveled in it like I want to.

Her nose touches mine. She doesn't move further than that. Not pushy, or just taking what she wants - she's asking me... she wants to know if I want it to.

I can't help but smile and lean in. Our lips brush, before they meet completely.

Then we're connected for the first time. My hands come to her neck, allowing my thumbs to caress her jaw. We readjust and our kiss turns into many little kisses and my chest feels like it can't expand far enough to get a sufficient amount of air in. Everything seems to be clearer now, and somehow more fragile than before.

But as soon as my arms start to wrap around her neck, I have to pull away.

I take a few steps away. My head is still in a whirl of crazy emotion I was sure would come. I can't breathe. All I can't think was 'no, no, no, no..'

"I'm sorry..." I hear behind me.

I can't even turn around to look at her... It's too much right now.

"No... no, I can't... this isn't right..." I keep repeating. I don't even know if she can hear me but my stomach is doing flips and I feel like I might throw up.

"Kristin, I'm so sorry... I didn't-"

"You're married!" I yelp, looking back at her. "What is that? You're married - we can't!" My breath is coming faster and faster, and I think I'm having an anxiety attack.

Her face goes from what I recognized as scared, to something that was more so surprised than anything. "What?"

I sit back down cradling my head in my hands. "You're married, Idina... we-we-we.. we can't do that."

"No.. I mean..." I hear steps getting closer. "That's the only reason?"

I pick my head up, seeing her kneeling right by me. "The only reason? Idina-"

"It's not because you didn't want me to?" She asked, searching my face again... that same look from earlier.

All I can do is shake my head.

"Why not?"

I smiled half-heartedly and took a deep breath. "You're you... You're smart, and funny... and so beautiful. Beautiful to the point it can be annoying, on the inside too, and all I want to do is spend time with you and around you.." I search her face for any kind of reaction, each pass over just finding her lips more and more enticing. "I don't know what's happening to me.. but everything is changing.. when I look at you... I just.." with each pause I keep getting closer to her lips - by choice or if my subconscious put me up to it - I don't know.

Finally she dipped back in, coming to the rescue and unravelling me at the same time. In no time my hands are in her hair pulling her closer still, and she has me wrapped entirely in her arms. All I can think of is how free I feel, how much easier I'm able to breathe, yet I'm still panting like I just got finished with a 5K. Somehow I still want her closer. We've eliminated all space between us, and she isn't close enough. I want... good lord, I don't even know what I want any more.

She doesn't try to stop my as I move away as quickly as possible. I don't even know how I got all the way across the room so quickly. Hands on either side of my face like I'm trying to hold my head from splitting in two. All I can do is try to keep my breathing in order.

"What's the matter?" She looks at me with wide eyes, standing and approaching me, but probably knowing better by now that she shouldn't come too close. She doesn't know if I'll explode or start screaming, or what I'll do.

I just shake my head, pacing slightly back and forth. "What isn't the matter, Dee!? We can't do this... You're married and that's all there is to it. I can't-"

"Can't what?" she interrupts, taking tentative steps forward. "Can't kiss me? Can't be close to me? You can't share something with me that I want to receive just as much as you want to give?"

"No! I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because you have a husband!"

She laughs, not with much humour, but it's a laugh nonetheless, still moving closer ever so slowly. "So what now?" a few more steps.. "One of us has to quit and we never see each other again?" Two steps. "Are we supposed to stay and pretend like it never happened?" One more step. "Or can I just spend some time with you?" And all of the sudden she's there, standing just a hair away, looking in to my eyes with a half-smile.

"Time..." I repeat, being hypnotized when I absolutely don't want to be.

Her arms snake around my waist, pulling me to her and holding me there.

My heart calms down as she presses my head against her chest. I can hear the steady beat residing there, easing my nerves down once again. In my mind I know that things can never be the same now. That we've crossed a line that can't be erased, and we've made the blueprint for more lines we might cross in the future. But everything will be different. Everything is different now.

"Should I let go?" she asks after a minute.

All I can do is shake my head as I relax into her more, and hold myself inside her embrace. I haven't felt like this in so long... like I don't have to worry about how fast the world is turning.

But a thought comes to me that my mind had been thrashing too much to notice. "Why did you do it?" I look up at her, searching for the same thing she had been earlier.

Only she had the courage to offer me a smile, and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. "They say you shouldn't ignore the things you feel... so I stopped ignoring it."

"And what do you feel?"

She took a deep breath, caressing my bottom lip with her thumb. "More than I should."

* * *

I woke up before we were leaning in, all those years ago.

I still feel her. Her lips on mine. Her arms around me, protecting me. Her breath just before we kissed. Her hair. Her fingers. Her cheek. Her hip, all freckled like the stars in shapes of different constellations.

I remember all of her.

And I don't want to.


	8. Chapter 8

Even a month with her gone, I can feel her on me.

Just that kiss she pushed on me weeks ago I think about every day. I still remember ever inch of her skin, and the new glow it held looking at her son. That look in her eyes, and the brightness she smiled at him - that was the only thing new. And I still can't deny that I love every part of her. I love the old things that I know, and the new things that I keep finding from our time apart.

And I don't know what to do. It's getting harder and harder to move myself from the place where I think about them every day. I keep thinking about how much I wanted a life and a home and a family with her. I think that's why it's hurting more than ever to be without her. To be without _them_ 's perfect, and I think about him just as much as I think about her. I think about the both of them, rather than separately quite a lot actually. I wish things that I can never have, even though I know how much more I hurt each time I allow myself to imagine all the things I want and then immediately deny myself of them.

Yet keeping myself busy to keep my mind off of what I don't have is all I can do. All I do is work. Television. Small parts in movies. Showing up on talk shows and talking about things that don't mean anything to me. It doesn't end. And I do find moments where I can breathe and not think about them for a little while, and then My mind calms down and they come to my mind.

I can't tell you how many times I think about coming home to the two of them and eating dinner. I think it's the small things I want the most. A life - a small piece of normal that I can sink into and feel secure in.

Now security is the last thing I have. I'm not even secure in my own head. I can't go an hour without wanting to cry, and I don't even stop myself anymore. I don't care. What is there to care about?

There's always this gnawing feeling in the back of my mind that I'm not good enough. Nothing I do is worth staying for. I'm always the minor part, in second, third, fourth place. Always just falling short.

The one place I've never felt that was home. My real home.

I don't think I've noticed how I've missed everything there. Everything was so much simpler there. And I've kept it that simple. I've refused to let anything leak back there. The craziness of my life has no place in the only place where I've felt safe over the years.

And lately my life has just seemed like it was crashing down on me. What with Idina and her son, and feeling the weight of that everywhere I go, I needed to get away. And 'away' meant one of the only places left I really felt safe.

Home.

My real home. With the people who I feel like I don't have to hide things from.. even though I do. I don't know that I'm ready for them to see me in the completely different light that they would if I told them about the affair I'd been carrying on with for far too many years.

My mother didn't raise me that way, and my father treated me better than to let myself be degraded as far as I have been. I know that they would still love me if they knew, but I'm not ready. I don't know that I ever really could be. They've known a very different me for so long, I don't know what it would do to our relationship if I'd change myself so much with a simple admission.

And even with hiding things from them, I feel better there than I do anywhere else. I want to make some brownies with my momma, and sit and watch forensic files with my daddy. The simple things they offer me so willingly, no matter who I've become or what I've done in the process.

I had to go back to solidify what little sanity I had left. If not to get my mind off of everything that I let my own world become, then to return to something that I knew and loved before everything went to hell.

And it worked.

I feel better. I still agonize over the family I don't have and think about what I want and what was so close to being mine, but I can accept it now. I can take deep breaths and just be thankful that I have my life. I have so many things that other people don't have. I have people who love me, and freedom, and the opportunity to do what I love and get paid for it.

And I realized that I have a family. I have a wonderful family that gives me all the love and support I could ever really need. Sure, it isn't the one I've dreamt of for these past years, but it's one that I wouldn't give up for the world. They were not an accident - they got me on purpose so that we could make each others lives better. God put me here. Sure, He didn't give me to my mother from birth, but soon ever He got me where I belonged. And adopted or not, I am their daughter. That will never change.

I just need to be more thankful for what I do have, and what I've had. Sure I didn't get all of Idina, but what time I did get to have with her, I will never forget, and I was extremely fortunate to experience it.

Some people never get to have a love like that come into their life. Of course, it breaks my heart that I can't have it for as long as we both deserve it, but I still got a little piece I can savor.

I need to be thankful for what love I have and have had.

* * *

I remember when I was young and would sit at the kitchen table while my mom played her crossword puzzles and dad had the 'Funnies' and would read them to me in the morning before school.

And they haven't changed a bit.

They still do the same thing every morning. They smile at each other every once and a while and take the others hand, give it a squeeze and go back to what they were doing.

Mom makes breakfast, dad smiles and tells her how good it is and that he loves her - that he loves all of us.

Then he finishes his coffee. Today he has a doctor's appointment that he insists he goes by himself so me and Mom could have some 'girly time,' he calls it.

I just laugh and say "Bye, Daddy - We'll have lunch made when you get back." With a huge smile on my face.

He gives me a side-hug, and moves to my mother, giving her a peck on her lips and smiles into her eyes. "See you in a few, June-bug." He starts walking away and says "Love you two." as he leaves.

Immediately my heart clenches of how I want to be old and do that with Idina. I want to sit at the kitchen table and eat breakfast and talk about silly things and cope with life and death and all the things we've done over the years with her. I want what my parents have - to be happy and love without boundaries and walls everywhere.

But as soon as the door closes, my mind snaps back to where I am. Who I'm without is temporarily put on the back-burner.

"You alright, sweety?" she asks.

Automatically my face turns in the smile I've practiced so well. "Of course, Mamma." I beam like I'm a zillion-watt light bulb. But like a light bulb, the light is false. It's not really the sun, as it's not really happiness fueling my expression. "You want to move outside? I think I want to be in the sun."

Of course she just smiles and nods, with a "Sure, honey.."

I should have known that by the time we got out to the back yard, she was already looking at me with her knowing eyes. And I, being the same little girl she raised, only tried to ignore it.

"Honey..." she says sweetly.

"Hmm?" I grin.

She doesn't buy it. I can see it in her face. Sometimes I love that she knows me so well... other times I wish she was like so many other mothers, and stayed oblivious to their children's problems once they're a certain age.

Her gaze lowers to meet mine, but not to use it - she's only ever had my best interest at heart. She's just searching for something to make me feel better. She knows. She knows everything. She just doesn't know the details. I don't know how I didn't see it before.

"You know I won't make you tell me what's going on, but I want you to." she gives me a flat smile.

As my face falls and I can't stop the tears coming to my eyes. I just shake my head, still trying to fight having to really tell her. "What are you talkin-"

"Baby, I know my little girl." she moves closer, taking one of my hands in both of hers and looking at me like only she can. "I've seen something so different in you for a good while now. I've been waiting for you to come tell me on your own time, but it's wearin' you out.. isn't it?"

I feel my lip quiver at the same time that I hate myself just that little bit more. This woman has known me since I was a baby and raised me to be the best that I could be, and I've hidden other things that have shaped and changed me. "I don't know, Mamma..." I just shake my head, trying to hold tears back.

She picked my head up in her hands. "Darlin', you should know by now that I love you more than anything. You and your brother mean the world to me, and I could never take that feeling away from either of you." She leaned in and kissed my forehead. "No matter what... but you need to tell someone what's under your skin. You can't hold all of what you feel inside like this. It's not healthy."

"I know, Mamma..." I start crying like I have no control over myself. I bury my face in her shoulder, and don't care anymore.

I know I have to tell her.

I know that things will change, but they have to. She has to know more so than anyone. She deserves to know what I am and what I've been through these past years. She's given me everything, the least I can give her is honesty.

All I know how to do is look up at her again and take her hands in mine, bracing myself for however she'll react.

"I fell in love... and my heart breaks every day because of it." I sobbed, not hiding my face anymore. She knows me and loves me anyway. "I don't know what to do... not at all!"

"Oh, baby..." she draws me in to a hug. "I thought that might be it, but-"

"She's married!"

I expect her to jump back and look at me like I was crazy, but she just kept holding me.

"She's married and has been all this time, and I love her so much.. I can't do anything, and not doing anything makes me feel like I'm dying slowly everyday." I have to pull back and look at her. "It hurts to breath sometimes, Mamma. It's all I can do not break down everyday."

She pushes my tears away with her thumbs, but they're replaced by new ones just as fast. I can see tears brimming the edges of her eyes too, but she's always been strong for all of us. I've seen my Dad cry more times than I've seen her cry.

"Does she love you back, honey?"

I shake my head, wondering how I would even begin to explain it. "She says she does.. sometimes I feel like it, and other times all I can think about is that she's with someone else."

"A man?"

I sniffle, knowing this is where the explanations come. "She's married to a man, yes.."

"For how long?"

"A long time.. too long. Ten or so years?"

She nods, just looking like she can't possibly wrap her head around it, but trying for me. "And how long have the two of you.. been... you know.."

"Six or Seven years... I didn't know how to tell you."

The amount of kindness that she emanates is unreal. She just shakes her head. "It's alright..."

"No it's not! I should have told you! I should have told you right away! I'm so sorry, Mamma.. I'm sorry..."

"Shhhh..." she hugged me tight to her, stroking my back and rocking me slightly. I don't remember feeling safer with anyone else.

We stay like this for a few minutes before my sobbing stops. Even then she's still holding on to me and I stay tucked in her shoulder. I realize she didn't even ask me or mention it was a woman that I was with. Her face told she was a little shocked, but she didn't really react any certain way.

"Kristi, I have to ask... but who is this-"

"Idina." I whisper, staying tucked into her shoulder.

I feel a sigh heaving from her chest. "I assume you're talking about the Idina that you were in Wicked with... and that you talked about so much during those Christmases.. right?"

I just nodded, trying not to break into another sobbing fit.

"Well, then.."

"She has a baby... she just had his baby, and he doesn't know her like I do." I have to pull back and look at her, confessing everything I've kept in for so long. "I know everything about her, I've kept every memory we've ever had locked up safe and he takes her for granted. I love her more than anyone could... and do you know she had me meet him! She had me meet her son, and his name is Walker, and he's perfect... and I want them both!"

"Then why is she still with him?"

"I don't know! I don't know.." Before I have the chance to crumble in on myself, I stand up and pace around the deck like a crazy person. "I've told her how much I love her, and she says she loves me back and wants to be with me, but she hasn't gotten any closer to leaving him. She says she wants to but... Goodness, Mamma, I don't know what she wants." I shake my head, leaning against the rail and looking over. "I want them both... I want them with me and I want to have a family with her and be a Mamma and live like you and Daddy do - just happy with each other."

"Then do it."

I turn around, looking at her, I'm sure, Like she has three heads. "What do you mean?"

"You said she hasn't made an effort to be with you, so you make the effort."

I shake my head. "I don't underst-"

"Give her everything she needs to leave him and let her make the decision. But you have to stay grounded. You have to be prepared if she doesn't." She stands up and crosses over to me. "But... there's no way you'd be this invested if you weren't loved back at one point. And _really_ loved you."

I take a shaky breath, just nodding. "She did... does... sometimes... I think."

With that, I look up at her as she's trying to fight off a smile, and we both burst into giggles. I didn't know why, and I don't think she did either, but just being able to finally share everything with her made me feel like I could be free again, at least a little bit.

"I love you, Mamma.." I smile, covering one of her hands in my own.

She just smiles back and covers my hand with her other one. "I love you too, honey. Nothing you do could ever change that." Her eyes flash to our hands and she sighs. "Your father will love you as well, but he might be a little less understanding.."

"Goodness gracious, can we just let him die happy?" I laugh.

Her eyes close because she laughs so hard.

I feel like I can breathe again. Like everything can finally transition into some sort of normality. And even if I never get over her, then at least I'll have someone to talk with it about, and someone who will give me her honest opinion no matter what.

"You know, I almost suspected it for a while.." My mother walks back over to her coffee.

I put my hands on my hips, pathetically wiping away my tears. "Oh, did you now?"

She nods, and is about to answer, but my phone goes off.

"Go answer it." she ushers me into the kitchen before I can shrug it off. "We both know you want to. You weren't meant for this small-town life."

All I can find in me to do is smile as I cross to the counter.

Until I see the number.

Without a missed beat I flip open my phone with a "Hello?" and look straight back at my mother.

"It's her, isn't it?" she whispers. Stepping closer, but not far enough to infringe on the conversation.

"Hi.. How, uhm... how are you?" she says shakily. She's crying.

"Fine.. I'm doing alright, I guess. What's going on?"

"Where are you?"

I hate when she doesn't answer my questions. "I'm home. _Home_ home.. Back in Oklahoma." I say faster than I meant to. "Please tell me what's happening. What's wrong?"

"I ended it.. I told him I was leaving and I told him I was taking Walker with me..."

My whole body goes numb. This is the moment I've been waiting for for longer than I care to recall, and it's finally here. So why does she sound like she's having a nervous break down?

My mother steps forward and puts a hand on my back with a strange look on her face - half wanting to know what's going on, the other half just wanting to make sure her little girl is alright.

All I can do is glance back at her with new tears in my eyes - happy, shocked ones.

"He hit me.."

And all of the happiness is taken away. Every ounce of stress pours itself in on me and I can't find my breath. I'm suddenly on the floor crying to myself like my insides have been ripped out. No more happy tears. These are devastated tears. I can't feel my body, yet at the same time I have a tightening, anxious feeling taking hold of my chest and resonating all the way down to my fingertips.

A strangled "What?" amongst my tears is all I manage to get out.

I hear sobbing on the other end of the phone before she answers, which only makes my head spin more. "I told him I didn't want this anymore and he hit me.. He said that I'm his wife and that Walker is his son, and he won't see his family torn apart over something that wasn't worth it and we argued.. an-and then he hit me!"

My heart breaks as I look up at my mother. I know I set up a vacation to get away from everything, but this changes everything. There is no normal now.

With an apologetic look to my mom, the woman who knows me better than anyone, and knows that I wouldn't make decisions like this if it weren't completely necessary.

"I'm coming. I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarification: As far as I know, Taye Diggs does not have any violent tendancies, nor do I think he beats his wife/ex wife (whatever.) At the time I wrote this (let me remind you it was back in 2010) I thought it was the best thing for the story, and I still think it was the right choice. I'm not attempting non-fiction. This is fiction. I don't claim to know these women, anything about their lives, their feelings for each other, or anything like that. All I'm doing is writing a story.   
> I hope everyone is enjoying it.


	9. Destination

Sometimes I feel like my life is just a continuation of steps.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Trip.

Fall.

Get up again.

I feel like that's all I do. I just get from point A to point B making as little noise as possible, or making as much noise as possible - whichever one will make people, and maybe even myself, think that I'm alright. That everything is alright. That the world as I know it is fine and sunshine and daisies and all of that crap. And nothing means anything anymore. Anything that means anything to me stays locked up inside my head where no one can see because of things that don't matter to me. Other than her feelings if anyone found out, I honestly don't care.

I don't care about anything anymore.

Maddie's Corner - Yes. I love that. Helping little lives that can't help themselves is always something that I will feel a passion for.

But I've been speaking less and less for myself over the years. Lost any motivation to care.

The only exceptions are my family and those who I feel as close to as family.. those who I wish I could call my family.

I left my parents house as soon as I could pack my things, which was right around the time my Dad got home, and I told him how sorry I was for having to leave on such short notice, but that I would be back soon. And I will be. I need to spend more time there. I need more healing time at the only place that I can really call home. I need the two of them, because they are my rocks more than anyone else. My mother, now more than anyone, because she knows everything, or now I can tell her everything.

I didn't tell her this, though. Not yet. She's the kind of woman who refuses to stand for that in the slightest. She would call the cops in the first inclination of any kind of abuse.

God. _Abuse..._ That word makes me shiver. That word in correlation with Idina makes me want to throw up. I knew I didn't like that man. Sure - I thought it was just because we were with the same woman, or the fact that he didn't know her. He doesn't know her. I know her - everything about her. And I want all of her.

And then the baby. I can't believe he would hit the mother of his child.

...I can't believe any of this is happening.

Everything is different now. Everything changed within me and within the whole situation that I've been battling against and for, for far too many years. The variables that held us back, held the dreams we'd created together, all of it has flipped on it's head with no sense of direction, and there's no way for me to try and regain balance. What do you do when there is nothing more to do? Where is there to go when all roads seem to be exhausted?

My heart stayed in my throat all the way to the airport, and it wasn't more than three seconds after I had all my things checked in that I B-lined for the nearest bathroom and emptied the contents of my stomach. The thought didn't cross my mind of how dirty the toilets actually were until I'd already puked once, and then that made me even more sick.

Sick is a perfect word for how I felt. How I _feel_. I am sick to my stomach that anything like this was allowed to happen. She was hurt, and is hurting, by the hands of a man that's won over me more times than I can count. I'm sick to the very core, and there's little to nothing I can do about it.

The baby pops into mind so often thinking of them. I don't care if Idina thinks it's better for him to have both his mother and his father with him, it can't happen like this. This isn't a healthy environment for any child to grow up in. She's a wonderful actress - better than the majority, but even she can't act happy for that little boy all the time. And even if she is the best actress known to man, acting all the time will kill her. It will put a torch to everything about her that I fell in love with, and she'll shrivel up and die in what she's letting herself live with.

Now more than ever she needs to get out. I don't even care if it's with me anymore - of course I'd like it to be with me, but she needs to be away from that man if for no other reason then to protect her and that baby.

But I want them. I want them both. That life that we talked about all of those years ago is so close to us now I can taste it, and I don't think she can.

All of it just makes me sad and tired and sick.

But I'm almost there. I texted her as soon as I got off the plain and he's not there. He won't be because he's out shooting all day. His damn show - all of them he'd put before her. All of the things he's done, he shouldn't have anything that he has anymore. I could take care of them far better than he's ever tried to.

I wasn't smart enough to call a cab before I got off the plain, so I had to wait an extra half hour before I was able to get on the road. But getting closer and closer to her home just makes my stomach form knots again. I don't know how bad things are, or how she looks. I don't know anything. All I know is that he hit her and that makes me want to find the nearest brick and beat him over the head with it.

That, and I feel as though I'm backtracking through my life. I told her I didn't want to see her again, and not only am I putting forth the effort, I just flew to where she is so I can see her.

And what happens after I see her? What happens if nothing changes again? What happens if Taye comes home and gets angry?

Nothing is certain anymore. Nothing makes any kind of sense. There were already so few things in this world I was sure of, and now there are even less.  
The fact that I love her will always be there. The fact that I would give all of myself to her is always going to be there. And I already have. The difference was that before I knew that she could be somewhat happy in the 'perfect' little home she'd built with a man she'd become comfortable with. I don't think I'll ever know if she really loves him or if he was just safe, but I knew that she could be content before now. But that idea came crumbling down along with anything that let me breathe easily anymore.

"This it?" The driver turned around and barked at me.

I just nodded and gave him the money allotted before I took my one carry-on bag with me and started up the drive way. It was the same as I remembered it the one time I'd seen it before. I stayed in the car while she went in and grabbed things she needed to stay the night with me in the hotel. It didn't seem that long ago. I guess it wasn't that long ago.

My hand came up to ring the doorbell, but I thought against it - what if walker was sleeping? Instead I got out my phone and started dialing. I got two numbers in before the door opened by itself.

"Hi..." she says quietly.

All I can bring myself to do is smile back - not a real smile, but one she knows the reasoning behind. When there are hardly any words to describe a situation, and a greeting can't even begin to cover the range of emotions you feel.

She looks quickly at the ground before stepping aside to let me into her home.

Immediately it feel cold, and wrong. Home is a place that's supposed to be warm and comfortable, that you want to come back to at the end of the day and relax. This place is not like that. This place is scary and uninviting. There isn't the love here that is supposed to be present when you step foot into a house that's been taken by a family.

When the door closes I look back at her with calm, unasuming eyes. I have to let her do this in her own time - pushing would be wrong. She's strong, but not that strong. Anything like this needs to be delt with carefully. She still doesn't look up at me; not until I take a small step forward.

Suddenly she's right there, her arms wrapped around my shoulders like I'm the only thing that can keep her tethered to the Earth. Not even two seconds later she's crying. Not crying calmly, but the kind when you can't control yourself and you feel like your world is falling apart. I feel the sobs wrack her body over and over again, sending a tremor through my own body every time she chokes out another tear or two. And all I can do is hold her. She's put me through so much and still all I can do is try and comfort her and give her all the love she should have been provided with in the first place. I've never stopped wanting her, but I've stopped wanting to want her more times than I can count. But the fact that I'm so in love with her that nothing could sway me from that notion will always remain, and I'll always hold her like this when she needs me to. That makes me understand that even if I were to leave, I wouldn't really be leaving. Whenever she really needed me I would be there... therefore 'leaving' isn't really an option.

She pulls back, but only enough to hide her face in her hands. I can't bring myself to say anything back. All my body is willing to provide is ushering her over to the sofa and sitting her down, placing myself right next to her in case she needs me.

And sure enough her head is on my shoulder in a matter of moments crying like hell again.

I can't imagine what this is like for her. I think she thought she was doing the right thing by staying with him once she found out she was pregnant, and that she would do right by the baby and things would be alright. I think she depended on that, even when I left, she held onto the fact that she was doing what was best for her child. And I think that's why she's like this now. She's hurt, not only by herself for making the decisions she did, but also by a man she put all of her trust in to provide her with a happy life she wanted so badly. The normalcy she never thought she experienced as a child.

"I don't understand..." she sobed some more.

I shook my head "There's nothing to understand - what you're going through is aweful. That's all there is to it." I just ran my hand along her back and retraced the paths until her breathing went back to normal... or close to normal. But even then her head remained tucked into my shoulder.

Time passes slowly. All I am aware of is that she's holding on to me like I would leave her if she let go - like she depended on me. After a while I just lay back and let her rest her heat on my chest, right above where my heart sounds it's slow rhythmic thumping the loudest. I've missed having her there.. or having her close to me at all, yet this time I just feel like there's nothing I can do that would be enough to make her feel any better. I don't like feeling helpless.

I've told her over and over again, but this time it's more than any other. This time, it's not for me - it's for herself and her baby.

"Dee, you have to get out."

She just takes a shaky breath, nodding and snuggling closer to me. "I know... I don't know where to start."

"Start by telling more people than only me. If he does this again you need more than the woman you've been having an affair with to stand behind you. You need someone who doesn't have the motive to lie for you."

She just nods again.

"Have you told anyone else?"

She shakes her head.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I took her face between my hands and made her look at me. "He does not own you. You are in control of your life, and you can do whatever you want to with it."

"But Walker needs his father and I can't-"

"Taye can still be his father without you two being together, but you can't be his mother if you aren't healthy and happy and there to show him how life is supposed to be lived. And you're not living! You're just sitting here breathing and pretending your life is what you want." I shook my head, wishing she saw what she was doing to herself. "You don't want this, do you? To be trapped here like this letting someone - anyone - dictate your life like this? Are you happy?"

Her lips start to quiver and she shakes her head again. "No."

"Then stop telling yourself that you're alright, and that you'll live with it for your son, and let yourself be happy."

There is a moment I can't read her. Her eyes go from mine to her hands to anything else like she's searching for something to say. Or trying to decide if she wants to say something she's already found. My hands find their way to soothing hair back from her face, and I watch as she lets tears slide down her face, calming down but she's not okay. No one would be okay in her position.

"Will you help me?" she asked.

All I could do was give her a small smile. "Of course, I'll help you.. whatever you need, baby - I'm right here. I always will be. You know that, don't you?"

"I know." She smiled through her tears. "I love you.. I want you to stay."

"I can't stay, honey.. you know that. This isn't where I belong. It's not where you belong either. We have to get you and Walker out."

"I meant, I want you to stay in California with me."

I stared at her a little blankly.

"I still want Walker to see Taye... Taye's going to want to stay in California... and I want you to stay with me."

She sounds so honest, so insecure, like she isn't sure I would want to stay - and of course I want to. It's what I've told her I wanted for as long as I could remember us being together seriously.

My breath was taken from me. She was serious, she was talking about me staying after she leaves him. My heart feels like it's swelling and flying at the same time.

"So you're really doing this?"

She sat up straight, looking right into my eyes and nodded soundly. "I am."

All at once I can't stop laughing and I feel like I could cry - I don't actually cry, but I feel like I could... and I jumped forward and wrapped my arms around her neck and held her tight.

I feel her laugh too, and hold me back. So much feels as though it's lifted off of my shoulders and like I can breathe again for the first time in years. I feel like she's actually in my arms rather than half there and half with her husband. She's with me - right here and now she's just with me.

"I love you so much..." she whispers, kissing my cheek and rubbing my back.

I pull back to look at her. "I love you, too... I'm so proud of you. You're so strong-"

With that she doesn't waste any more time and she bounds forward, kissing me like she means it - like I've been waiting for her to kiss me for years, and I melt into it. Our world feels like it's finally _right,_ and I can breathe without feeling that terrible aching in my chest. I feel like she's finally mine, and I don't have to go crazy wondering how long she's going to stay anymore.

Suddenly she stops, and turns her head with the strangest look on her face.

Then I hear it too - the faintest little cry that only a mother would notice right away.

She takes my hand, "Come on.."

We walk down a hallway that's dimly lit, with only one light shining on the wall from one of the rooms. As we get closer to that room, the little whimpers get louder. Before we enter, she turns and gives me the warmest smile I think I've ever received from her, and then she lets go of my hand, slowly making her way to the crib on the opposite side of the room.

"Hey, there handsome.." she coos, making small sh-ing noises to calm him.

I wait in the door frame just watching her be a mother. I never thought I'd be able to do this - to get to see this side of her, or share this with her. Maybe at the very beginning when the promises were still new, and I didn't have so many doubts because of other promises being broken so frequently.

"Do you want to hold him?" She asks, looking over her shoulder absolutely beaming.

I laugh, feeling little tears bubbling up in my vision. "Yeah, of course I do."

She expertly places the little bundle in my arms, and he looks up at me for the first time. His eyes are so big and expressive. He just studies my face, probably wondering who I am. But this little person is a part of her. He is something she made, and someone who will always be connected to her no matter what. I fall in love with him all over again. Just seeing him makes my heart melt and my chest squeeze, because I've missed months of his life already.

I have to actively blink tears away. "Well, hi little man... how are you?" I smile. He looks so much like his father, but also like his mother. His hand reaches up and squeezes my sweater gently, just getting a feel of it's texture.

I hear a sniffle and look up, finding that beautiful brunette wiping the tears off of her face.

"What's going on, honey?"

She shakes her head. "I'm just happy... happier than I can remember myself being for a long time." She closes the gap between us and wraps her arms around my waist, leaning back enough to give Walker a little bit of space between us. I close my eyes as she kisses my forehead softly.

"Is it terrible to say I can't believe this is happening?" I smile, looking into those greenish-brownish, crazy eyes that stole my heart far too long ago.

She laughs. "No. It's still a little strange to wrap my head around too."

"I've waited for this for so long... I'm just - just relieved. And happy!" I feel a smile on my face that almost hurts.

One of her hands rests on my cheek as she just looks at me. I look back, all too aware of the baby between us, and how wonderful it is to be in this position with her.

"I love you." She whispers.

And that was it - tears start to calmly roll down my face. "I love you too, Dee."

"You ready to be a family?" a grin takes up her entire face.

All I can do is nod and rest my head on her shoulder as she gently rests her arms around me and her son. Our son. Our little family just starting. I feel more like myself than I have since before the affair started, or when things got better, or any of that.

This time it's really happening. We finally have our turn at the happy ending.


	10. Completion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the last chapter.   
> The sequel is coming soon, due to all of the requests I've had for one recently, and the reason I've posted everything over to this site as well. You are all appreciated. You are loved.

_Two weeks later..._

"...and I want to paint the bathroom blue. Not like an ugly blue, but one of those calm blues that we can make a little ocean theme around, ya know?"

"Everyone does their bathroom with an ocean theme, Idina."

"I know. I want to be like everyone. I want to be normal and mundane and be a housewife."

I shake my head. "You would hate being a housewife."

"No." She shakes her head, wrapping her arm around me a little tighter. Her other arm is holding her head up from the bed. "I could do it. I'd love it! Just to take care of you and Walker and relax for the rest of our lives." She smiles, then leans forward and kisses just underneath of my collar bone. "Maybe we can have a few more kids."

Looking at her like this never gets old - looking right into her eyes and feeling like everything is right. "Are you going to have them?"

"Or you could..." She laughed, dropping her head again so her nose drags delicately along the curve of my breast, placing tiny kisses as she goes giving me butterflies. "Or we could..." Her weight shifts so she's over me now, moving down my body.

Then there's a crash.

"What was that?"

"The box with the dishes in it..." she laughs.

"What's so funny! It just means we'll have to go buy more!"

She shrugs. "So we'll buy more."

"Which means I'll buy more."

"No, you'll go pick them out, because you're better at that, and I will buy them for you..."

"...us. For us."

"...us..."

"This is OUR apartment..."

She shakes her head. "It's your apartment while it's filled with all these annoying fucking boxes."

"Boxes full of OUR stuff."

She rolls her eyes.

"We should unpack."

"We'll unpack later." She rolls my blouse up a little and kisses my stomach. "Right now, we should break in these new sheets..."

All I can do is giggle and kick another box off the end of the bed.

* * *

_Eight weeks later...  
_

There's shuffling in the background. "I don't know where it is!"

"Honey, calm down... just take a deep breath."

"I can't! He'll be home any minute and I can't find it!"

"Why didn't you pack it in the first place?"

"I thought I did!"

There's a loud crash on the other end of the line. "What was that?" My heart is racing.

"The night stand." She says very nonchalantly.

"What?"

"It's not under there."

"Idina, please calm down."

"I'm not going to calm down! I swear to God if he threw out my grandmother's necklace I will kill him."

"I'm coming over."

"No. If he comes home I don't want you here."

"I don't want you there alone with him, then!"

"Kris, I can deal with him. Don-"

"Idina I'm not going to let you rummage around on your own, and not find what you're looking for, or worse have your husband come home and blow up at you without someone else there to help you if things go wrong."

"Things won't go-"

There's a sound on the other end and then everything stops.

"Hello?"

She's still quiet, and then I hear his voice in the back ground and the line goes dead.

* * *

_Three months later..._

"He wants Walker every other week."

"He can't do that - he's too young right now. Walker needs to be with you more often than not."

"That's what I told him, but he's not going for it."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know..."

* * *

_Four and a half months later..._

"Here, munchkin - go, 'Muuuuaaaaaahhhhh...' - yeah... almost.."

"Hon, just make the air plane noise."

"He doesn't like that anymore."

"Since when?"

My eyes widen, talking in a silly voice that makes our baby crunch his face and giggle. "Since we got the mobile on your crib finally, right? Right, big man?" He gurgles and claps his hands.

Idina laughs at us, sitting in her chair and reading over another script sent to her. "He likes it when I'm feeding him."

"Well, you're not feeding him are you Mom?"

"I thought I was mommy... you were mamma, and Taye has yet to put in his name.. or am I missing something?"

"I've been calling him, 'the other guy' for a while - nameless wonder until he wants to make time for his child."

She gets up and swings her leg around the space left between my behind and the back of the chair. "I hate this script."

"Don't do it then." I revert back to baby voice, trying to get him to take another bite.

"I need to do something."

"Fine." I lean over, kissing her cheek before I hand her the baby food and go to the kitchen. "You feed him and I'll start _our_ dinner."

"Okay, then Mamma.." She says half mocking me in her own small voice. "But really - I can't _not_ work for so long."

"Baby, we'll figure it out... let's just enjoy being together right now?" I turn around smiling. "And something worth while is bound to come your way. Because you are wonderful... and we love you... and you are far too talented not to get work, and you know it." I inch closer, and sit down on one of Idina's legs, wrapping my arms around her shoulders as she continues to feed walker.

"I guess you're right."

"I am right."

She smiled before giving me a small kiss. Which turned into longer kisses, only broken off by high-pitch whirring and gurgles from the high chair.

"What?" I say to the little boy. "Do you want some too?"

All of the sudden Idina and I ambush him with kisses, making him giggle all over the place.

The feeling of content never fully reached my soul like it has in these moments - filled with normalcy and unadulterated happiness for the very first time in my life.

* * *

_Five months later...  
_

"What did he say?"

"We're going to have dinner every second and fourth Monday of the month from now on - go over schedules, major life decisions, day care options - all the basics so we're both up to speed."

"You know I can't do Mondays, honey... I have meetings with my manager Mondays."

"No, just Taye and I."

"..Oh..."

"Don't worry... please. It's in public, and he'll cooperate better if it's just me. Plus, it'll give Walker at least a small portion of time he can see the both of us together."

"Alright.. whatever you think is best. I trust you."

"Thank you."

* * *

_Six months later..._

"You can't - I won't let you!"

"It's a matter of letting me-"

"You promised me! You said this time was it!"

"It is! Honey, it's not even like I'm really leaving! I'm ju-"

"You're going back- you're still going back to him! What happened to our family? What happened..."

She keeps filling boxes, and I just loose it. I swat the box off the bed, feeling my chest tighten again. My fingers reach their way under my glasses to rub my eyes and wipe away more tears as I struggle for air.

"What the fuck!"

"You can't do this to me!"

"I'm doing this for that baby! He doesn't even know Taye anymore! He won't even stay in his arms without screaming!"

"That's _Taye's_ fault that _he_ won't make time for his son, Idina. Your home is here - Walker's home is _here!_ With me... I love you both - don't go.

"I have to go... Walker needs-"

"Leave, then! Get out!"

She hushes her tone, sitting down and looking over at me in the corner I've retreated to. "Taye knows we'll still be together, but we both agreed it would be better if we raised Walker together. He'll have his mom and his dad in the same house, and it'll be normal for him... It'll all work-"

"He's calling me Mamma, Dee! I-I.. I love that little boy! You're just going to take him away from me?"

With that the conversation is over. I lock myself in the bathroom, both not wanting to see her and so I can empty the contents of my stomach at the thought of having what had been my baby for the past six months taken away from me.

* * *

There is pain and heart ache wherever you go in life.

There are and will always be times when you feel as though your world has dropped out from under you. It is inevitable that you will feel hurt, and discouraged, and there is nothing we can do to stop it. What we can do, is cope.

The simple and horrible reality, is that happiness is the thing that's fleeting. We try to float from moment to moment of it, sustaining ourselves on little to nothing until something else makes us smile - that's what we have to hold on to. Through all the tears and migraines we'll go through trying to find what will make us happy, we must cling to what we know already makes us happy. There is no other way than to hold memories and sensations dear when they can't be right next to us, always. Though in accepting this, it becomes a little harder to believe in God, and a lot harder to make those phone calls home.

I've had no choice but to accept that this is my life. Living day by day, without the people I love most.

Looking back now, I think it was my fault. I couldn't help loving Idina, and I still can't. My mistake was giving myself false hope instead of appreciating the love I already had. Granted, the love isn't what I intended for it to be. I didn't set out wanting stolen nights and the occasional morning next to her. I didn't plan on missing a baby that was only mine for a short time. I didn't anticipate the loneliness that over whelms me everyday. But I should have. I should have known from that first moment, where she didn't give a damn if she were married or not, that I wasn't what she was banking on - I was, and am a side investment. I think she loves me in her way... but I also think that she is content in having her cake and eating it too.

I see Walker here and there. I've been demoted to 'Auntie Kristin,' and see him mostly in pictures and the "chance" run in. I have to stop myself from sobbing when I... the two times I've held him since they left.

But I won't talk about that now. There's no room to let that sit in my mind anymore.

I don't deny the fact I'm miserable, not even to her. She knows how much pain I'm in by looking at me now, and I won't stop her from assuming. I'm not happy with what I have, but at least I have her in some small way. For a few moments every time she's over, I'm able to lose myself in sensations that have become to addictingly familiar and perfect in their own sense.

I suppose that's what this is - a horrible addiction I can't get over. Every time I've gone and tried to make better for myself I've been even worse for the ware than I had been when I was being used. Yet I've realized in being used, at least she still has a need for me. It's better than nothing at all. I would rather know that I'll have her when she has the time than knowing I'll have no one. Not having someone is the worst curse of all...

Or perhaps not... I think the worst ending to a story is the one I've chosen - for there to be no end, no closure. To be broken and broken again and by choice. Because you know that in being broken, someone is taking the time to carefully pick up pieces to break them again, falling into the same habit, and after so long you expect it, and crave it. You want that horrible ache in the pit of your stomach because it's better than the hungry nothingness you'd be if there weren't anyone there to hurt you. The tears you cry aren't as frequent because your tolerance has gone up - you're more numb now than ever due to the brokenness of your soul you don't even seem to bother with anymore.

I'm done chasing the light in my eyes everyone told me was so radiant, and I'm done thinking I could have something that will never be available to me. I have a small piece of what I set out for, and if that's all I'm offered, then that's what I'll take.

She still tells me she's sorry, and I can't do anything more than smile at her, knowing she can't ever truly mean it because she keeps coming back - keeps trampling all over what's left of me.

But this is what I choose. Hotel rooms and meeting on tour dates, or sneaking over when someone's not home, letting her sneak away in all hours of the night.

I choose love in the only choice that's been offered to me.

I'm a visitor in her heart just as much as she's a visitor in my bed.

But that's all she'll ever do; visit me.

I suppose I was never meant to be anyone's home... and the worst part is that I'm ok with it now. I've accepted my fate.

But I'm done talking over this now. I don't think I can handle going around in circles in my mind anymore and it certainly doesn't help the level of complacency I'm aspiring to now. I can only say that life is not the prospect I thought it would be, and hope has led me astray, and still to the very thing I want most.

Love to you. Always.

-KC


End file.
